Fallen Away
by Enesvy
Summary: When a stranger shows up at her door with a message from her dead grandfather, Hazel Gibbs finds herself drawn into a dangerous conflict between humanity and its own fallen angels.
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters—they belong to whoever owns the Tron universe, God bless 'em. Well, I suppose at this point I own Hazel, but she's about it. Oh, and O'Bryan. Hmmm…okay, anyone who shows up in the story who's in the actual movie of Tron, I don't own. That should about cover it.

Author's Note: I'm having fun with this. This opening chapter's a little short, but please give me a review if you enjoy it. I will be writing more, hopefully in a timely manner. I have another fanfic going on a different site as well as editing a novel, so we'll see.

Dedication: To Steven and Bonnie.

* * *

The strange man standing on Hazel's doorstep looked vaguely familiar.

"You are Hazel Gibbs, aren't you?" he persisted.

She left the chain on the door. The older man looked like he hadn't slept for days. His eye were red, his clothes and gray hair were rumpled.

"I k-knew your grandfather," he continued, glancing over his shoulder and nervously looking down the street.

She quickly thought back to her grandpa's recent funeral. Oh, yes. Now she remembered him.

"Mr….O'Bryan?"

He smiled with relief. "Yes! Yes. I need to talk with you. It's urgent. May I come in?"

She didn't like the idea. "I'm not…I don't really know you. Can't we talk here?"

"I need to come inside…I can't stay out here. I promise, I'm not crazy. I just need to ask you something about Walter."

"Sir, I don't let strangers into my house."

"Please. I swear. I'm not here to hurt you. I know I look…I'm…I'm desperate. Please let me in."

She paused and thought back again to the funeral. The images rolled through her mind like a movie. She saw her dad talking with Mr. O'Bryan. Her mother hugging him. She glanced back at the man on the step. His eyes were pleading. She believed him. Unchaining the door, she let him in.

He moved quickly into the living room as she shut the door and locked it again.

"Thank you…thank you…" he repeated.

She bit her lower lip. "Can I…get you something to drink? I have water and ice tea."

"No…no." He was very distracted, as if he didn't know how to start.

"You said you wanted to know something about grandpa…" then she remembered her manners. "Mr. O'Bryan, please sit down."

He looked at her as if awakened. "Thank you." He sat down on the sofa, closed his eyes and calmed down. "I'm sorry. This must be very disrupting for you. I'm…I…you know, I will take that glass of ice tea."

At that moment, Hazel just really wanted him to leave. He had indeed disrupted her day. The 35 year-old graphic artist was in the middle of creating a series of cartoon characters she'd been commissioned to do for a new children's book. The sketches were done and she'd been about to scan them into Photoshop when the doorbell had rung. The publisher needed a first draft of the figures tomorrow. Hazel didn't have a lot of time to waste.

But, she had let the guy in. Ice tea it was.

By the time she returned with the tea, Mr. O'Bryan had calmed down considerably. She sat down across from him in her favorite armchair—the one with the green-striped pattern. He sipped the tea, sighed and then met her gaze, his own much clearer.

"Thank you. I'll come straight to the point. I used to work with Walter back in the Encom days when we were perfecting a technology called 'digitizing'."

Hazel nodded. "I remember. Grandpa told me about it a lot. Something into nothing and back again, he used to say. I never got to see it actually done and I don't really understand the mechanics of it but it sounded interesting."

"It's more than interesting. It's…well, I can't really tell you much. But the technology for digitizing, it was appropriated by the federal government about ten years ago—taken completely out of our hands. Walter was fit to be tied, but there was nothing we could do." He was fidgeting, tapping the glass with his fingers. He glanced back up at her. "This…this is the short version of the story, you understand."

"Mr. O'Bryan, I—"

"Please…I…I have to know if Walter left you anything. Any…papers, information. Anything on disk or on a computer?"

Hazel paused. She had been very close with her grandfather and she still felt his loss keenly. This relative stranger was asking for information she felt profoundly personal. "Whatever my grandpa left me is my business."

"No, no…it's all our business, Ms. Gibbs. Somewhere, your grandfather had a code, a program, _something_ that could, well, that could protect us from ourselves."

"You're not making any sense."

He put the glass down. "The programs _know._ They…they know that the users are no different from them." He struggled to find words for what he wanted to say. "Have…have you ever seen the movies where technology goes bad and turns on the human race?"

Hazel raised an eyebrow. "You mean just about every science fiction movie that comes out?"

"Yes, well, it's not just fiction any more. It was bound to happen. And it is happening. Only quietly. Very quietly."

Hazel very quietly began planning how she was going to get this lunatic out of her house. "Mr. O'Bryan, I said it before. What my grandfather left to me is personal. It's not for anyone's perusal, especially someone I don't even know. Is there anything else I can answer for you?"

"You won't share it with anyone?"

She sighed. "I'm not even saying that there's anything to share. I'm just…I'm just not comfortable with this situation and I'd really rather you left. I'm sorry."

"I see," he looked down at the glass of tea. "Walter….he said that if anything ever happened to him, to come to you."

She looked back at him.

"He told me you'd never break his confidence. He was right. He was right to trust you. Well, that's it, then." He met her eyes. "He told me, if anything ever happened, to tell you to use the key."

Her breath caught in her throat. "How did you…"

"He told me. To tell you. If anything ever happened to him."

"Nothing 'happened' to him. He died. He just died of old age."

O'Bryan looked down at his hands. "Yes. You're right. Perhaps…perhaps I've been mistaken. But at least I've told you what he said."

"If you don't mind, I have to get back to my work." She was having a hard time thinking. The key. Grandpa wanted her to use the key? A dying wish? But he had told her never to use the key…to simply watch over it for him…

"Yes, of course. I'm sorry I've disturbed you." He got up and walked to the door. "Thank you for the tea."

Mechanically, she got up and followed him, still lost in her thoughts.

"Oh," he said, turning as he opened the door, "please take my card. If anything…out of the ordinary happens, please don't hesitate to call me. I could maybe help."

She took the card. "What do you mean, 'out of the ordinary'?"

He stepped out onto the front walk and looked up at the sky. "Oh," he said without turning around, "you would know it if you saw it." And then he walked calmly away.

Hazel watched him go, wondering where he had walked from. His gait was casual now, strikingly unlike his fearful and nervous demeanor when she had first let him in. She went inside and closed the door.

When people say that your life can change in a moment, it is true. We rarely believe it will happen to us. We think our orderly lives will go on as planned. Hazel Gibbs thought this, too, until the stranger had told her to use the key. Leaning against her closed front door, she looked at O'Bryan's card and ran a hand through her short red hair. Then she touched the silver chain around her neck and pulled it up from under her blouse. She looked at the small safe deposit box key that dangled on it. She tapped it against her teeth, thinking. Then she looked at it again.

"You told me never to use it, Grandpa. You told me just to keep it safe." She fingered the key. "Safe from what?"

Just then her phone rang. It was her publisher, Morty. Yes, the sketches were done. Yes, she'd scan them today, clean them up a bit and send them out tomorrow morning. Yes, first thing. What? Digital photos? Of what she had now?

Hazel sighed. She hated sending stuff that wasn't perfect.

But yes, she'd photo the sketches. Yes, she'd send them within the next half hour. No, no problem at all. She hung up.

No time to think of the key right now. She let the chain drop back down her blouse and went to take the photos.

Later that evening, she was working on cleaning up the scans. Turned out that it was good Morty had gotten a look at the early sketches. There were already changes—a whole character dropped from the list. That had definitely saved her time and she'd been able to do a much better job on all the other characters because of it. Once final cleanup was done, she zipped the images and emailed them to her publisher. She glanced at the clock. 11:32 PM.

"There ya go, Morty," she said with a yawn. "No more complaints out of you. At least not til later tomorrow."

She rubbed her tired eyes and began to pick up the papers littering her computer desk. An erratic flashing caught her attention. The lights on her D-Link router were flickering and flashing. Her grandpa had insisted on installing the router on her computer when she'd gotten a fiber connection to the Internet. What had he called it? A firewall? Well, it normally flashed a little, but this was weird. She thought back, running through the pages of the router's user manual in her head. A photographic memory was a handy thing. But there wasn't anything about this in there. Not even in the troubleshooting section.

"Another sixty bucks out the window," she murmured, preparing to shut the computer down.

That's when the router sparked and jumped.

"Shit!" Hazel cried, standing quickly, knocking her chair over.

There was a high pitched sound. And then, her digital camera, still connected to her computer by its USB cord glowed with a bright blue light. In a moment, it was no longer a solid object but more like one of her scanned drawings, a 3-D image surrounded by a grid pattern. Then there was a loud crack, and a painful flash like a welding arc. Hazel jerked her eyes away with a cry.

Blinking, a large white blotch loomed in her vision. After a few moments, it began to clear. She squinted back at her desk. Everything looked normal. The router was no longer flashing erratically. But no...her digital camera was gone. Vanished. Not a trace of it left.

This certainly qualified as "out of the ordinary". Before she knew what was happening, she found herself in the living room, picking up O'Bryan's card and dialing his number.


	2. Chapter 2

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters—they belong to whoever owns the Tron universe, God bless 'em. Well, I suppose at this point I own Hazel, but she's about it. Oh, and O'Bryan. And now Toby. Hmmm…okay, anyone who shows up in the story who's in the actual movie of Tron, I don't own. That should about cover it.

Author's Note: Slowly but surely. The folks in my writers group aren't letting me let go of this one. Not to mention the fact that I'm loving it. ;)

Dedication: To Steven and Bonnie.

It was two days later that Hazel stood at the locked door to O'Bryan's apartment building. It was a squat two-story building with some ornate flourishes around the entrance. A small lawn hunkered close to the front of the building, neatly cut. The front stairs had that slightly musty, though not unpleasant, smell of older cement. She took a breath and pressed the buzzer for his apartment. There was still no answer. Just like there had been no answer to her phone calls. She pressed the buzzer again.

She had left him at least three phone messages. Now he probably thought _she_ was a stalker. _He's the one who came to me,_ she thought, a little grudgingly. Then a side thought, _I hope he's okay._

The possibility that he might not be okay had plagued her since that first phone call at the ungodly hour of almost midnight. She didn't know the man, but he was no spring chicken. Shouldn't he be at home, if not in bed, at that hour?

She pressed the buzzer one more time. Then, after getting no response, she buzzed the manager's apartment.

A woman answered, her voice sounding scratchy through the intercom. "Yeah? Hello?"

Hazel leaned forward toward the speaker. "Um, yes…I'm trying to reach Mr. Thomas O'Bryan-"

"Four-B. Buzz his apartment."

"Yes, yes, I know he's in 4B…but he's not answering. I think something might be wrong."

"You family?"

"No, no I'm not, but he was a friend of my grandfather and I-"

"I can't let you in. Why don't you give him a call?"

"Maam, I did call him. I've been trying to call him, but there's no answer. He seemed…distressed when I last saw him and I-"

"I can't help you. If you're that worried, go call the cops. Goodbye."

"But-"

The woman hung up. Hazel stood with her hands on her hips, annoyed. Then, she sighed, realizing that it was no good. She turned to walk down the steps just as a young man with blonde hair and too many freckles came up with a bag of groceries in his arms. He walked to the door, punched in a code and swung the door open. He turned and grinned at her. "Going in?"

She smiled back, "Thanks!", and bolted inside behind him.

"I take it old lady Halverson wasn't letting you in."

"Well, it is supposed to be secure."

He shrugged as he walked toward the elevator. "As secure as it can be. You don't look too dangerous. Where you going?"

"I'm trying to get in touch with Thomas O'Bryan."

"Oh, yeah. 4B. He lives down the hall from me. I'm Toby."

They got in the elevator and the young man hit the button for the fourth floor.

"Hi, Toby. I'm Hazel," she said. "Thanks for letting me in. Mr. O'Bryan asked me to call him and then there's been no answer. He was a friend of my grandpa."

Toby glanced at her. "You mean Walter?"

Hazel was surprised. "You knew him?"

Toby hefted the grocery bag as the doors opened to the fourth floor. "Just lately. He was here a lot visiting with Tom. They were working on some computer thing or another, I think."

Hazel smiled, thinking of her grandpa Walt. An original computer geek. Then she missed him again and tears sprang involuntarily to her eyes as she stepped out of the elevator.

"4B is just down there." Toby was pointing to the right. "I'm two doors down this way…hey. You okay?"

She wiped her tears away and nodded. "Sorry. My grandpa…Walter…he died just a few weeks ago."

Toby looked stricken. "You're kidding. I had no idea. I mean, he hadn't been around for a while, but I just thought…boy. I'm sorry to hear that."

"Yeah," Hazel said, regaining her composure. "It's this way?" she asked, indicating to her right.

"Yes. I…do you need any help or anything?"

"No. But thank you. I appreciate you letting me in."

"Well, you didn't look like an axe murderer or anything. Don't prove me wrong," he said with a wink. Then he turned down the hall the other way.

Hazel took a breath and walked down toward 4B. She glanced down the other way just as Toby went into his own apartment and closed the door behind him.

"Okay," she said quietly to herself. She found 4B, straightened her shirt in back and knocked on the door.

The funny thing was…she got an answer. She hadn't expected one. But the door suddenly opened and there was O'Bryan. He looked horrified. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Hazel was taken aback. "I…I'm looking for you," she stammered.

"No, no, no!" he said and slammed the door shut.

She stood there in shock. No one had ever slammed a door in her face, let alone someone who she had only moments before thought was in some kind of danger and who she was only trying to help. She swallowed, stared at the door.

Then it opened again. O'Bryan was pulling on a light jacket and fumbling with his keys and a laptop computer. "Crazy …what were you thinking?" He tried to lock the door, but the keys fell out of his hand as he tried to lock the door and still hold onto the laptop. He sighed deeply, put down the laptop, picked up the keys and commenced locking the door.

Hazel stared at his back. She was having a hard time grasping this situation and she suddenly dearly wished she had never come.

O'Bryan turned and looked at her. "Well, then. Let's get out of here."

"Wait a minute!" Hazel shook her head. "What…why haven't you answered your phone?"

"Not here!" he hissed, quickly picking up the laptop.

"What?"

The sound of a door opening came from down the hall. "Hey! Tom!" It was Toby. "Everything all right?"

O'Bryan seemed rooted to the floor. "Oh, yes. Fine. This is…a friend of mine."

Toby walked down the hall toward them. "You kiddin'? This is Walt's granddaughter. She must be more than a friend. She just told me about Walt. I'm sorry to hear that."

"Yes," muttered O'Bryan.

"You guys going out for coffee or something?" Toby asked, glancing at Hazel.

"Well, I…" she began.

"We have stuff to talk about," O'Bryan cut in. "It's a bit confidential. Business really."

"Ah," said Toby. "Okay, well, I'll see you later then. It was nice to meet you, Hazel."

"You, too," she said, "Thanks for…"

O'Bryan pushed past them and headed for the elevator. Hazel couldn't understand his strange, impolite behavior. She smiled apologetically at Toby, finishing her thought, "thanks for your help."

"No problem," he said.

She walked quickly back to the elevator, where O'Bryan was holding the door. She entered and he punched the button for the lobby. They were quiet for a moment.

"What-" she began, quietly.

"Not here," he said again, exasperated. "Can you just wait until we're out of the building?"

All Hazel could think was that this situation had better get less annoying soon or she would just write off the camera as a bad dream. She wondered how her grandpa had put up with this. Then she remembered his legendary patience.

O'Bryan led the way out of the elevator, down a hallway and out the back of the building. They threaded their way through the parked cars of the tenants and down an alleyway toward the street.

"My car is out front," Hazel suggested.

O'Bryan paused, hesitating. "No…I think…there's a park just a block away. Let's go there." And he hustled down the alley.

Was the man bi-polar? When he had left her house a few days ago, he was calm and collected, as if relieved of a great burden. But now, he was back to his manic, nervousness. Nevertheless, he was the only one who might have an answer for her about her disappearing camera. She jogged to keep up with him, the dirt and gravel of the alley crunching under her feet.

"I have to tell you what happened."

He slowed his step just a bit when he saw her trying to keep up. He glanced over his shoulder at the way they had come. "Yes…go ahead. Tell me."

"It was my camera. My digital camera. I had attached it to the computer to transfer some photos of my sketches. I was just signing off for the night and it…well, it…"

"Yes?" he glanced at her, still walking.

"It kind of glowed. Bright blue. And then it…I don't know how to describe it. It disintegrated…no. It seemed to break up into pieces, a sort of grid, and then there was this unbelievably bright flash of light. When my vision cleared, the camera was gone."

O'Bryan's steps slowed to a halt. He stood staring at the gravel, sniffed. Then he looked back up. "There's the park. Let's sit on a bench." And he took off.

"But!" Hazel sighed. _Damn, he could move fast for an old guy._ She took a breath and followed.

O'Bryan was putting his laptop down on the bench as she arrived. He sat down and stared straight ahead. Hazel decided to give him the benefit of the doubt. This was a friend of her grandpa, who she trusted implicitly. She sat and waited for O'Bryan to say something. The fresh, pine air of the park seemed to calm him.

The old man sighed. "I was afraid it was something like that," he finally said.

"Do you…do you understand what it was? What happened?" asked Hazel, suddenly unsure whether or not she really wanted to know.

He looked at her and for the first time, she noticed his eyes were blue. He said, "It's going to take some faith on your part. They've taken your camera as a test, you see."

"Who? Who's taken my camera?"

"They call themselves the Rovers. They are rebelling against the Users. That's us. An old name, but the only one they really know. And from their point of view, quite apt."

Hazel opened her mouth to speak, but found she had no response. She closed her mouth and just watched him.

He gave a small laugh. "I know. It makes no sense. Let me try again. Computers. Your grandfather and others like me worked on computers when they were just beginning to be recognized for their usefulness to everyday people. They were run by programs: written code that told the computer what to do when given certain commands."

Hazel nodded. "I remember the DOS prompt days from junior high back in the 80s. You'd enter 'run' and then the name of the program. And it would run the game, or the typing editor, or whatever you wanted to do."

"Right," agreed O'Bryan, seemingly relieved that she wasn't completely lacking in computer history. "Well, we discovered something back in those same 80s. Walter and some others worked for a company called Encom. That's where they were working on the digitizing technology."

"Digitizing…" Hazel thought back. "That's what grandpa was always talking about…moving things, not just data, through computer networks."

"Like your camera," O'Bryan said, watching her.

"Like my…CAMERA?" Hazel gasped.

O'Bryan shushed her. "Yes, yes…"

Hazel lowered her voice. "My camera was digitized! But how? By whom?"

O'Bryan fixed his gaze on her, swallowed and said, "By the programs."

Hazel blinked. "What programs?"

"The computer programs. The Rovers."

"There's a computer program called 'The Rovers'? That's the digitizing program?"

"There is no digitizing program. The Rovers are computer programs—all kinds of them—who have banded together to take control of our computer networks. All of them."

"I don't understand…are you talking about a computer virus?"

His gaze was electric. "I'm talking about _beings._ The programs are beings just like you and me. Living in the computers. We wrote them. They exist as surely as you and I."

Hazel looked down, back at O'Bryan, over at a tree. It didn't make any sense. She slowly digested his words and then fed them back. "You're saying that computer programs are _alive?_"

O'Bryan nodded. "Alive. And out of our control."

It was insane. It couldn't be true. And yet…she believed him. Why? Why did she believe him? He could be insane. Grandpa Walt may not have known his friend was losing it. But he didn't look insane. He only looked…afraid.

"The Rovers watched and waited as we perfected the digitizing technology. That happened several years ago. But it couldn't be done outside of a laboratory setting. Then, a month ago, people started disappearing. My and Walter's friends, the ones who truly understood the technology best. Vanishing. Missing persons. The police have no clues. But Walter and I suspected. And now…your camera…had you been touching it at the moment of digitization…"

She looked at him, horrified. "What?"

"You'd be missing, too."

She was starting to get a headache. "This is crazy! No one will believe us. I barely believe you as it is!"

O'Bryan looked at her furtively. "There's someone who can help. Someone who's been there." He flipped open his laptop and began typing.

"Wait!" Hazel said, now terrified of any technology. "What if they get the laptop?"

O'Bryan shook his head. "I'm connecting wirelessly. Digitizing requires a hard connection of some kind. No, I am quite safe. We need to contact Flynn and this is the fastest way to get word t-"

There was a sudden spark from the laptop's wireless antenna.

The old man paused. "That's odd…"

Then the impossible happened. The laptop sizzled with power and glowed bright blue. An instant later, the glow surrounded O'Bryan. He wasn't even able to cry out before the grid pattern surrounded the laptop and then him.

Hazel jumped up with a cry and stumbled backward, falling onto the grass. _Close your eyes!_ She obeyed her own thought just as the brilliant white flash arced, followed by a resounding crack.

Her ears rang from the sound. Then she heard voices; people running. She squinted her eyes open to see a man and a woman looking down at her.

"Are you all right?" the woman asked, concerned.

They helped her sit up. "Y-yes. I'm…" she glanced at the bench. O'Bryan was gone. The laptop was gone. It was as if he'd never been there.

"Was it lightning?" asked the man.

"It couldn't be," the woman said. "Not a cloud in the sky."

Hazel stood shakily. "I'm all right…I have to leave."

"Please," said the man, taking out his cell phone. "Let us call for some help. You could be hurt and not know it."

Hazel's eyes widened at the sight of the cell phone. "No," she said, backing away. "I…I'm fine. Please…just leave me alone." She turned from them and quickly began walking away from the park. She had to get back to the car. Just get back home.

Glancing up, her eyes fell on a man standing about a block away, down the alley out back of O'Bryan's apartment building. She stopped.

It was Toby. How long had he been standing there? Had he seen everything? O'Bryan had vanished only moments ago…Toby must've seen. He wasn't even staring. He was just watching. Watching her, standing calmly with his hands in his pockets. Almost…smug.

Hazel turned away and walked down a different street. She was no longer safe and she knew it.

She would find her way home. Then she would find Flynn.


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters—they belong to whoever owns the Tron universe, God bless 'em. Well, I suppose at this point I own Hazel, but she's about it. Oh, and O'Bryan. And now Toby. Hmmm…okay, anyone who shows up in the story who's in the actual movie of Tron, I don't own. That should about cover it.

Author's Note: Thank you to my commenters! You have all given me constant encouragement and got me going again on Chapter 3. I love this story—just have a ton of other stories fighting for my writing time. Hope this is worth the wait. :)

Dedication: To Steven and Bonnie.

* * *

O'Bryan opened his eyes. It was dark. He blinked and took a breath. His mind raced. He was afraid. Afraid that he knew exactly what had happened.

"It can't be," he whispered, slowing sitting up. His soft words echoed metallically off the hard, gray walls of the small cell. "It was wireless."

He looked down at his hands, knowing what he would see. He'd heard Flynn's stories. Now he was living them. His hands were ashen gray with glowing, blue circuitry running through them like veins. He stood, his bare feet touching the metal floor. Strange, though…it didn't feel exactly like metal. It wasn't cold; it wasn't completely hard. In truth, he had no idea what it was. His clothes were a darker gray material, soft and simple. Like a prison jumpsuit.

He raised his eyes and looked up. The small cell had no ceiling. The sky above was dark, but had no stars, no wind, no clouds. Just a dark, strangely electric void.

Though he was neither too warm nor too cold, O'Bryan shivered.

A voice from behind. "I thought you'd never wake up."

The old man jumped and turned around. There was nothing. Just a bare gray wall.

"Who's there?"

"Come closer to the wall. Just…don't touch it. There's a force field in effect. But the closer you come, you'll be able to see me."

O'Bryan walked slowly toward the sound of the voice. As he did, the wall began to fade, become transparent. When he was just a foot away, he could see plainly through. On the other side was a young man, sitting on the floor of an adjacent cell.

O'Bryan gasped. "Y-you look so much like Toby. I didn't know he was a computer programmer. He's your 'user', correct? I've been told that programs look just like their p-programmers…" He was babbling. He felt faint. "And…and we're inside a computer network or system or…"

The young man nodded. He was dressed like O'Bryan and had the same blue circuitry running through his skin. But he looked just like Toby with his freckles and blonde hair, though here it looked almost white.

"You'd better sit down, Tom," he said.

O'Bryan's legs suddenly felt like water. He sat quickly as he heard himself stammer, "How did you know my name? Why would Toby tell…"

Exhaustion fell over the young man's face. "I _am_ Toby."

"But…" O'Bryan was at a loss for words. "But you can't be. You were just…I just saw you in the hall…"

Toby locked his eyes on O'Bryan's. He shook his head slowly. "It wasn't me."

O'Bryan felt a dark fear grip him. _Impossible…it's impossible…_

* * *

Back in the real world, Hazel had been trying to find Kevin Flynn. Her search had been difficult. Ever since she'd seen O'Bryan vanish before her eyes in the park, she'd been afraid to touch anything electronic. She'd abandoned her cell phone at home, had called her publisher from a pay phone to let him know that she wouldn't be around for a couple of weeks, that a family emergency had come up and she couldn't share the details. Morty hadn't been happy, but he had agreed to work around her absence.

So here she found herself, in her car with a suitcase full of clothes, her purse and a flash drive on a lanyard around her neck. She'd never been able to travel without her art carefully backed-up from her hard drive and on the road with her. It did make her nervous, however, even just this small piece of hardware, but she couldn't leave her work behind. And she felt pretty sure that a flash drive couldn't be "connected to" apart from a computer. God only knew, though. She was an end-user through and through. The inner workings of computers were beyond her.

But she had friends. And her friends were used to her being a little eccentric now and then. So when she called them from a phone booth asking them to do some web research for her, they did. Kevin Flynn, CEO of Encom, had been on a leave of absence from the company for several weeks now. No one knew where he was.

Hazel tried another tack and got a hold of one of her grandpa's old friends, Lora Bradley. Lora had given her a lead on Flynn, but only when Hazel had been able to provide proof that she truly was Walter Gibbs' granddaughter. They met briefly in the lobby of the Encom building where Hazel told the 52-year-old CIO about O'Bryan's disappearance—sans the strange details.

"If Tom is truly missing, Flynn will want to know," Lora had said. "But he's not in contact by any means except face-to-face. He won't be happy that I sent you up there. Still, I think you can be trusted. Walter was my mentor and a good friend. If he trusted you, I can certainly trust you." And she wrote down directions to a cabin in the mountains.

Hazel had one more thing to do before heading out to find Flynn. She sat in her car outside the Bank of America that her grandpa had used. She had been here only one other time. It was when her grandpa had brought her in to sign some paperwork as the only other person who could access his safe deposit box. Hazel fingered the key on the chain around her neck. If there was anything in that box that could help her, now was the time to find out.

Hazel took a breath and went into the bank. There was no problem as she signed in and the bank employee took her into the vault. Turning their keys together, the safe deposit box was released and the woman left Hazel alone to review its contents.

The box was a small one. She carefully pulled open the top, surprised by her own anticipation after all this time.

Apparently for nothing. Hazel tipped the box sideways to make sure something wasn't stuck to the side. Nothing. There was nothing in the box.

"Grandpa…" she said, annoyance in her voice. "Did you come take it out before you died?"

Why would he have done that? Why would he have taken whatever-it-was out? She felt oddly betrayed. All this time thinking he'd left her something special. Something important. If he had taken it out, he should've told her.

Unless he hadn't…unless someone else had.

Hazel suddenly felt unsafe. Vulnerable. If someone else knew about the box, had been here before her, then couldn't they have been waiting for her to show up?

She quickly put the box back, signed out and left the bank. As she approached her car, her eyes swept over it, under it, as most women are trained to do, looking for danger signs. Nothing. She got in. Her breath was coming fast and hard. What was she doing? What was going on? She was an artist, for God's sake! Not a secret agent!

She looked at her watch. It was noon. Time to get going. It was a two-hour drive to the mountains and then who knew how long, on what kind of road, to get to the cabin. She'd stop and fill up on gas, then be on her way.

But Hazel paused. Did she want to be using her credit cards? What if someone was trying to find her? She'd seen on TV how people were tracked by their credit cards…better get some cash.

She drove quickly to her credit union, got out and walked up to the ATM. Putting her card in, she reached to enter her PIN. She paused, her finger hanging over the keypad. _Man,_ she thought, _I'm on automatic pilot! I shouldn't be using anything technological…_

But her card was already in. She couldn't leave without it and she needed cash. She swallowed hard and then quickly typed in her PIN with shaky hands. Nothing. She was still here. No blue light. No weirdness. With a sigh of relief, she completed the transaction, withdrawing enough cash for a week.

Her receipt slid out and then her debit card. She reached for it, feeling confident now. But as her fingers closed on the card and pulled it out in one fluid motion, a surge of electrical energy shot up her arm. She stumbled backward with a yelp, terrified of what might be happening.

Nothing more happened. A fluke? A malfunction in the machine? Someone could really get hurt by that. Hazel decided to let the credit union staff know. She turned to go inside.

Across the street on the other side of the bank, she spotted Toby. She halted. He was watching her, his brow furrowed as if confused.

Suddenly, Hazel was just plain mad. Her camera was gone, O'Bryan was gone, this Toby guy seemed to be alternating between kind, threatening and then just plain weird. And following her? Hazel wanted some answers. She headed straight for Toby.

His confused expression vanished.

"Hey!" Hazel yelled. "Hold it! Toby!"

He looked around as if she might be calling to someone else.

"Why are you following me?" Hazel shouted, now almost at a run.

People on the street turned to look at them. Toby took a step backward as she walked up, out of breath and got right in front of him.

"Why are you following me?" she repeated.

"Could you lower your voice? People are staring."

"I don't care if people are staring."

"Fine," he said, flustered. "I wasn't following you. I'm waiting for the bus."

Hazel blinked and felt her cheeks get warm. It was only then she noticed the bus stop sign. _Oh, God,_ she thought, _Have I just made a complete fool of myself?_

"I…I…you saw what happened to O'Bryan, didn't you?"

His brow furrowed again. "Something happened to him?"

"You were there. You saw it."

"I don't know what you're talking about. Listen, unless you've got something else to say…" his voice trailed off as his eyes caught the silver glint of the chain around her neck. "…yeah. Unless you've got something else to say, my ride's here."

The bus pulled up. Toby walked past her. Hazel couldn't shake the feeling that there was something bad about this guy. She called after him, "You know what happened to him, don't you?"

He stopped with one foot up on the step and turned, a slight smirk on his face. "I'd worry less about other people if I were you." He boarded the bus and was gone.

He'd threatened her. It was a threat if she'd ever heard one. Something inside of Hazel clicked. She was no longer afraid. She was simply determined. She remembered her grandpa saying once, "Hazel, there's good and bad in this world, and you have to fight to keep the good on top. But it's worth it. It's always worth the fight."

Her back straightened as if her spine were suddenly made of steel. Whatever was going on, whoever they were, if they wanted a fight, they were going to get one. Hazel Gibbs was ready.

By 4:00 PM, however, Hazel Gibbs was tired, hungry and grumpy. The drive to the mountains had been long with construction delays. She should've stopped and gotten something to eat, but she was anxious to find Flynn. She was also anxious to get away from the city, from all that technology which had become sinister and dangerous to her.

She'd left the paved roads long ago and had been driving at 15-20 MPH on the bumpy mountain road (if you could call it a road) for over an hour. She was beginning to worry that she was lost. She'd followed Lora's directions carefully, but that didn't keep her from wondering if she had somehow missed something, a turn-off, a road marker.

"No," she said out loud to herself. "No, I've been watching carefully. I always do this to myself when traveling takes longer than I thought."

So she stayed the course and was soon rewarded…with a dead end.

Not a literal dead end, like a box canyon, or a road just ending, but with a huge break in the road—it had crumbled away, leaving a huge trench with no way to cross to the other side. The road continued over there, but she wouldn't be able to cross it. She stopped the car and got out.

"Oh, no," she sighed, frustrated. She walked to the edge and looked down. It was at least a 10-foot drop…how had it just fallen away like that?

"Nature's a bitch, huh?"

Hazel jumped and backed away from the edge, A short distance away on the other side of the break in the road, a man stood leaning against the side of a tree. His hair was dark blonde, streaked with gray, and pulled back in a short ponytail. He wore a t-shirt and jeans, Birkenstocks on his feet. His expression was bemused as he watched her.

"Yeah…" Hazel began. "I'm trying to find someone."

The man casually crossed his arms, appraising her. "You're a long way away from anywhere. If you're looking for someone, it's probably Kevin Flynn." He indicated the direction further up the road behind him with a toss of his head. "His cabin's up that way."

"Is there any other way I can get there?"

"Nope. This is the only road. And like I said, nature's a bitch." He gave her a casual smile.

Hazel thought for a moment. She had too much stuff to hand-carry and climbing around this hole wasn't going to be easy. She looked back over at the man. The conversation would have to take place here. "Lora sent me, Mr. Flynn. I'm Hazel Gibbs…Walter's granddaughter."

The smile vanished from the man's face. He thought for a moment, considering her more carefully. He walked toward the edge of the broken road on his side. "Forgive me if I don't just take your word for it. What do you want?"

"I need help, Mr. Flynn, I—"

He shook his head dismissively. "Just Flynn."

"Flynn. Fine. Listen, I don't really even know how to say this, but…I think someone is after something that grandpa left behind."

Flynn raised an eyebrow. "Could you be a little more vague?"

"It's just…I…couldn't I come over there? I'm willing to climb down and across. I just feel weird talking to you across a chasm."

He ran a hand down his face and sighed. "How do I know you're Walter's granddaughter?"

Hazel let her arms drop to her sides in exasperation. "I don't know. You're just going to have to trust me. Why would I come out to the middle of nowhere? I need your help." She bit her lip and looked down, trying to think of what she should say. "How can I prove that I'm …wait. I know. I can tell you what O'Bryan told me. About the computer programs. The…oh, what did he call them…the Rovers. He said that the…"

Her voice trailed off as she looked back up at him and saw him holding a gun pointed at her. "What are you doing?" she gasped.

"Only Rovers know about Rovers. Are you one of them?"

"What!"

"Just back off, program. Unless you want me to blow you away, you'll get in your car and go back where you came from."

"I'm Hazel Gibbs! I'm not a Rover! I don't even know what they are!"

"I'm not going to say it again."

"I'M NOT LEAVING!" Her enraged shout surprised even her. "My grandpa was Walter Gibbs. He just died three weeks ago. He worked for Encom until he retired and he was your friend! He would've wanted you to help me, not hurt me! Now, put the gun down!"

Flynn blinked. After a moment, a smile crossed his face and he began to laugh. He put the gun away into a holster behind his back as he said, "You're Walter's grandkid all right. No one can fake the Gibbs brand of bull-headedness."

Hazel began to laugh in spite of herself.

"Here," Flynn said, as he turned away from her, his voice now kinder, "You're gonna like this."

She watched as he trotted back to the tree he had been standing next to when she first saw him. He reached behind it. All Hazel could imagine was that he maybe had some kind of wood plank she could walk across on or something. There was a sharp flicker of light right in front of her and then…the jagged trench in the road was gone!

She stepped backward in shock. The road was complete—no damage, no 10-foot drop. "H-how…how did you do that?" she gasped.

Flynn walked back toward her with a grin. "One of your granddad's pet projects in his retirement. A very refined digitization. It's laser-driven, but so fast that you can't see it."

"You mean, the trench was really there?"

"Yep. All that dirt just being held in the beam 'til I put it back." He looked at her as she stood mouth agape. "Don't ask me how. I'm a programmer, not a scientist like Walter."

"It didn't look anything like what happened to O'Bryan or my camera."

Now it was Flynn's turn to be shocked. "What! _Tom_ O'Bryan? What happened?"

"That's why I've come," Hazel said. "I need your help. There's so much to tell you and I have so many questions."

Flynn's expression was grave. "Come on. You drive. The cabin's just about a mile ahead." He jumped into the passenger side.

Hazel got behind the wheel and gave it some gas. But she stopped just a moment later. "Are you sure it's safe to drive over where it was…digitized?"

"Oh, yeah." Flynn gave her his wily smile. "Walter knew his stuff. It's like it was never gone."

"Okay…" Hazel pressed on the gas pedal and they were on their way, over the vanished trench and on up the bumpy mountain road.


	4. Chapter 4

Thank you to everyone who has subscribed and commented. I am finally back to this one!

This chapter is dedicated to everyone who has urged me to continue this fanfic. Enjoy.

* * *

Tracer was in trouble and he knew it. The Gibbs woman had challenged him and he'd had to back down. The Lead wasn't going to like it. Not one bit.

He got off the bus at a stop near his apartment. What was this awful feeling in his stomach? A twisting, uncomfortable feeling ripped through him every time he thought of reporting his failure to the Lead. Damn user body. So much he didn't understand about it.

Back in his apartment, he tried hard to think of how he could spin what had happened. He wanted to stay on Landfall…he didn't want to go back where he'd come from. Here he had power. Rover respect. He had to make them understand that he just needed more time.

An Ethernet cable was plugged into the wall, the end of it draped over the arm of his recliner, the only piece of furniture in the room. He sighed and sat down. He ran his hand through his hair, glancing down at the cable with its exposed wires. After a moment more, he grasped the cable with his right hand. His eyes rolled back in his head as his consciousness flashed away from Landfall.

Everything was dark. He could only hear and even that wasn't true hearing. Disembodied, he waited. Then he sensed his thoughts being reviewed, his Landfall memories being downloaded and evaluated.

The Lead's voice filled his mind. She sounded neither pleased nor displeased. "You had her at the cash machine."

"Yes," Tracer sent his thoughts into the void. "It was no different than for Evans or Barnes. The process was the same."

Silence. Tracer waited. He knew it would be a mistake to speak. He'd witnessed others make that mistake.

"Your eyes were on her?"

"Yes," he confirmed.

"You didn't blink?"

"Never. Not once."

"Nothing between you and her?"

Tracer hesitated. "I…I was on the other side of the street. But there were very few cars…I _know_ I didn't lose visual contact."

Silence. Fear crept across his consciousness.

The Lead spoke again. "You were very focused on her."

"Yes…"

"So focused that you may not have noticed if a car sped between you."

"No. No, Lead, I—"

Pain like he'd never experienced ripped through him. He screamed. His consciousness was pulled apart and pressed back together, torn by lightning. Pain like fire. Then it was over. In his mind, he wept in agony as the pain faded.

The Lead spoke slowly, her words simple and sharp as a knife. "You've had a month on Landfall. A month in your user body. You had the secret in your grasp and you lost it because you were on the wrong side of the street. It is only your stellar record as a Rover on Flipside that is keeping you from deresolution. Find her. Find Flynn. If you cannot bring them here, then eliminate them."

Tracer found himself back in his user body, his hand bleeding where he'd held the cord, the Lead's words still speaking in his mind: "You will not get another chance."

* * *

The cabin had a beautiful view of a river valley. No civilization anywhere in sight. Hazel stood in the large living area watching Flynn as he made coffee over a wood stove.

"Have a seat." He indicated a leather sofa.

She sat down. The cabin was quite modern except for the lack of electricity. The furnishings were not new, but not too old either. The kind of thing a wealthy CEO might build for themselves to get away from it all.

"So," Flynn said, watching for the water to boil, "you said your camera and O'Bryan just disappeared?"

Hazel relayed her story, glad to be sharing it with someone else. Flynn listened as the ground coffee steeped. He brought them two cups and sat in a chair opposite her.

"Hope you like it black." He took a sip, glancing at her over his cup. "I'm afraid you've been thrown into something pretty dangerous, Haze."

Her question was soft. "Is O'Bryan dead?"

He paused mid-sip, looking at her. He put his cup down and leaned back in his chair. "I don't know. It all depends on what the Rovers want with him. If they only wanted to shut him up, then…yeah, he's probably dead. But not because of what you saw."

"You mean the blue light and the grid?"

He nodded. "Digitization. From something…"

"…to nothing and back again." She finished the quote. After a moment, she added, "But then, if he was digitized, he'd be at the 'nothing' stage, wouldn't he? How is that not dead?"

"Well," Flynn rubbed his chin, "It depends on where he went for the 'back again.'"

Hazel was growing tired of puzzles. "Mr. Flynn--"

"Just Flynn."

She sighed. "Flynn. I don't understand any of this. It sounds like you and O'Bryan are talking about some kind of plot. A plot by…computer programs."

"Didn't you ever see 'Wargames'? '2001'?"

"This isn't a movie! I want the truth!"

Flynn turned deadly serious and shouted, "You can't handle the truth!"

Then he laughed. Hazel blinked.

He relaxed with a grin. "Sorry, I've just always wanted to say that." He sipped his coffee.

Hazel watched him, disenchanted. "My grandpa never talked about you."

"No?"

"No. I wonder why."

"I have no idea."

Hazel felt her anger rising. Why wasn't anyone forthcoming? Why did she have to drag information out of them? Well, she was done with that. She stood, picked up her purse and headed for the door.

"Hey!" Flynn said, startled. "Where are you—"

"I'm leaving."

She threw the door open and headed for her car. Flynn tripped out the door behind her.

"Wait! Haze!"

"It's Hazel!" she yelled as she reached for the car door.

"You can't leave!"

"Watch me."

She got in the car and slammed the door shut. As she turned the key in the ignition, Flynn was suddenly at the window.

"They killed Walter!" he cried.

Hazel froze. Her blood went cold.

Flynn was still at the window, looking at her earnestly. The engine hummed, waiting for her direction.

"They killed Walter," he repeated softly. "And they'll kill you, too."

Images of her grandfather's smiling face flashed in Hazel's mind. _They killed him!_ Could it be true? Could any of this be true?

"Hazel," Flynn pleaded, "they'll kill you, too."

She turned off the car. Opening the door, she stood and faced him.

"Tell me everything," she said.

He looked conflicted. "It's a long story…a hard one to swallow."

She closed the car door. "As of now, I have nothing but time."


	5. Chapter 5

Hazel sat, stunned. She had listened for over an hour to Flynn's story of his journey into a computer network. _Into a computer network._ She had long ago finished trying to rationalize to her brain what he was saying. Digitized into the network by a huge computer program, the Master Control Program, Flynn had found himself trapped in an adventure where videogames became true battles to the death, and computer programs, in alliance with their human writers/creators (aka Users) plotted to take over the world. Flynn had joined forces with Tron, a security program, to destroy the Master Control Program, his henchman Sark, and his human counterpart, CEO of Encon, Dillinger. In the end, Tron nearly lost the battle with Sark and only a hail-mary play by Flynn had saved the day.

He finished his story, standing by the picture window, drinking his coffee.

"So…" Hazel began slowly, "you threw yourself into the beam…"

"Sort of the lifeforce, you might say," Flynn added.

"…of the Master Control Program…"

"Known as the MCP to his friends…"

"…and that destroyed him." Hazel pursed her lips.

"And sent me out of the system and back into our world." Flynn finished.

"Also revealing the data that proved Dillinger had stolen your video game programs that had made him millions."

Flynn ran a hand through his sandy gray hair. "End of story. Or as we used to say in network-land…end of line."

"How did you know it wouldn't kill you?"

"What?"

"Jumping into the beam."

"I didn't. More coffee?"

She smiled in spite of herself. "No thanks. So you sacrificed yourself to save everyone?"

"Don't go gettin' all dramatic. I was a dead man if I did, dead man if I didn't. When you've got nothing left to lose, you do some crazy-ass things."

Hazel watched him sip the last of his coffee, his gaze out the window. "And Tron? Yori?" she asked. "What happened to them?"

"Heck if I know."

Hazel narrowed her eyes. "With Dillinger's demise, you became CEO of Encom. How could you not know what happened to them?"

Flynn scratched his ear. "You ask a lotta questions."

She crossed her arms. "Apparently I'm a dead woman. I've got nothing to lose."

"Right…"

"If I'm going to stop these programs, I need to know everything, Flynn. Surely Tron has an idea of what's going on. If he's even still around. He's a security program. And Yori's scientific expertise could be invaluable. Where are they?"

An electronic beeping sound broke the conversation.

Hazel gasped. "I thought you had no electricity—"

Flynn ran to the kitchen. "I lied."

Hazel sprinted after him. In the small kitchen, a laptop was on the counter. Flynn was typing on the keyboard.

"Are you insane?!" Hazel cried. "Didn't you listen to anything I said? That's how they do it!"

"No," Flynn said. "Nothing here is wireless. It's a closed network I built myself. Battery-powered. They have no access to it. Just didn't want to freak you out." He typed a bit more. "There!"

Four pictures came up on the screen. Live security camera images of the nearby forest and the dirt road.

Flynn hit a few keys and the camera images changed as they scanned the area. In one a figure appeared, walking.

"Gotcha!" Flynn whispered, focused. "Now, just who are you?"

Hazel's stomach dropped. "It's Toby."

Flynn glanced at her, surprised. "Toby? Toby who?" He looked back at the walker and began to zoom the image in.

"I don't know his last name. He lived in the same building as O'Bryan. I told you. He's the one who's been following me." The image sharpened and Hazel could see it was, indeed, Toby.

Flynn straightened looking at the image. "Holy shit. Toby Erickson."

"You know him?"

Flynn looked thunderstruck. "Yeah, I know him. He's my sister's kid."

"Your nephew?"

"Yeah, my nephew. Lives in Virginia. Makes pottery. People pay a lot of money for it."

"He's an artist? Not a computer programmer?"

"Not a programmer. Not here." Flynn was quiet for a moment. Then he moved toward the door. "Come on. Let's go see what he wants."

Hazel followed him, nervous. She felt better that she wasn't alone, but couldn't shake the feeling that they were walking into danger.

"How far?" she asked.

"He's about a mile down the road coming towards us. We'll see him in a couple minutes. And, hopefully, get some answers."

"But he could digitize—"

"No, he can't. There's no networks anywhere near here except mine, and it has no wireless. We're safe, Hazel. Stay with me."

Hazel kept pace with Flynn, but her thoughts were going a mile a minute. If this wasn't Flynn's nephew, then who was it? And why did he take Toby's form? Could computer programs really be living beings? What were they doing with the people who disappeared and why? What had her grandfather meant for her to do and what had he kept in the safe deposit box?

She was a little out of breath as she said, "I think my grandpa wanted to stop these programs, these Rovers."

Flynn cast her a sideways glance. "I think you're right."

"But they got to him first." She quelled her grief. "I think…I think I was his backup plan."

"You've got the key. You're the one he trusted with it."

"But I'm not a programmer. I don't know anything about it."

Flynn slowed to a stop. He looked appraisingly at Hazel, his expression earnest. "I think that's why he chose you. A fresh perspective. You'll be able to see things that us programmers would miss."

"But that's…it doesn't make sense to me."

"You believe, though. You believe what I've said is true?"

Hazel thought about O'Bryan's fear, his story and strange disappearance. She thought of Toby and his malevolent presence and persistence. In her creative artist mind, she could already see the computer-world Flynn had spoken of with its veins of light, circuitry, danger and beauty. She wanted to believe.

"I do," she answered with a certainty that surprised even her.

A grin broke across Flynn's face. "Well, then. That's half the battle."

They both turned at the sound of approaching footsteps. Toby rounded a bend and came to a halt as he caught sight of them. His eyes flicked from Hazel to Flynn and back.

"Well, hello there," Flynn called out genially.

Toby was silent. His eyes continued to look them over.

"Hello, Toby," Hazel said, her voice hard.

He locked gazes with her. "Hello, Hazel."

Flynn watched him. "That's a nasty cut you've got on your hand there," he said, indicating the scabbed-over wound on his palm.

Toby glanced down at his hand, then back at Flynn. "Thanks for caring, uncle."

"Oh!" Flynn raised his eyebrows in mock surprise. "So you do know who I am. I'm impressed. Problem is, my nephew never calls me 'uncle.' He's more likely to call me names my sister would use and they ain't pretty. It's all in fun, of course, but he's never once, in his life, called me 'uncle.' So why don't you tell me, Toby…who the hell are you?"

A dark smile spread across Toby's face. "I'm the boarding party."

In a flash, he rushed Flynn, knocking him flying backwards. Flynn crashed on his back on the path, but was quickly up on his feet. "That the best you've got?"

Hazel gasped. "Flynn! On your shirt!"

Flynn glanced down to see a tiny blinking device stuck to his shirt. He locked eyes with Hazel. "Run! Down the path! Go!"

Hazel looked at Toby. He was staring at Flynn, his eyes changing suddenly to a strange, electric blue.

Flynn cried out. "RUN!" he screamed.

Hazel took off running down the path. Behind her there was a brilliant blue flash of light and Flynn's scream was cut off. She raced, pushing her fear down, focusing on what to do next. Surely Toby would overtake her. It was time for her own hail-mary play.

When she heard Toby's running steps not far behind, she came to a grinding halt. Looking around, she finally placed her back to a nearby tree.

Toby sprinted into view and came to a stop.

"What did you do to him?" Hazel demanded, trying to keep the fear out of her voice.

"I sent him in."

Hazel shook her head. "You couldn't have. There's no wireless here. There's nothing."

"There's his own network. Yeah, it's small, there's no access, but every electronic device gives off fields. I get close enough, I have access."

"So he's…"

"Safely tucked away inside his own private computer network. He's safe. I didn't derez him. Just got him out of the way, best I could."

"Are you sending me in there?" Hazel asked.

Toby's glance was cold. "I'd like to. You'd be out of my hair. But you're wanted. Even more than Flynn. You have a secret."

"So it's true," Hazel said. "About the computer programs. You're a Rover. Somehow you've got out."

"Don't ask me how," Toby answered. "I'm just the errand boy."

He approached her and she stiffened.

"Don't worry," he said. "I'm not going to hurt you."

Hazel pressed harder back against the tree as Toby came up to her. He pulled out another of the small, electronic devices from his pocket and attached it to her blouse collar. He stepped back and looked up at the sky.

"What…what are you waiting for?" she asked, moving to the side of the tree.

Toby looked over at her. "We're in the middle of nowhere. The only place I could send you would be into Flynn's private network and that's no good to the Lead. She'd bring me in and I'd probably get circuit-hauled. No, she wants you. So, I'm waiting for the satellite."

"Satellite?" Hazel asked, trying not to panic.

"I'll have a live connection in about two minutes." His gaze returned to the sky.

Hazel glanced behind the tree. The device located there was simple. Suddenly, the thought occurred to her that she could get rid of Toby right now and forget any of this ever happened. But that was impossible. O'Bryan, Flynn, Toby—the real Toby—were all in trouble. Not to mention, apparently, the whole world. Computer programs had gotten out of human control, had even gotten out of the computer. Humanity, like God before them, was going to have to cast down its own fallen angels. Hazel felt the fire of adventure, inherited from her grandfather, burning in her heart. She would stick to her plan.

The two minutes had passed.

"What's your real name, Toby?" Hazel asked, her voice strong.

His eyes suddenly glowing bright blue, Toby looked at her and answered, "Tracer."

Her vision swam with electrical sparks. She pressed the single button on the device behind the tree as she said, "Well, Tracer, welcome home."

Both of them were enveloped in brilliant blue flash of light that lit the forest, swaying the trees and startling a flock of birds that took off into the sky.

The forest was still again and silence descended. No one stood on the dirt road.


	6. Chapter 6

The woods around her seemed to spin with light. Hazel's brain was trying to crawl out of her head. No…no, her whole body was turning inside out. No…no…

Her vision went off-kilter into darkness. Wind blew through her as everything vanished into cold, sliding light. Her thoughts became live things, swirling around like sharply colored eels or flying fish made of hissing neon. She couldn't breathe. She was dying…she was nothing…her consciousness swept away in a fissure of blackness somewhere between existence and oblivion.

Until…

Something hot and liquid seared itself into her chest. Her lungs expanded and pulled in a breath of tingling, metallic air. Her feet felt something solid and flat beneath them. Her whole body felt afire as if her veins were running with molten metal. She threw her head back with a scream which echoed around her back and forth like a boomerang until it faded into nothing.

She still hadn't opened her eyes. She was waiting for all her thoughts to swim back in. And she was afraid.

Barely audibly, she whispered, "This isn't happening….I only think it's happening."

Slowly, she opened her eyes.

It was almost as if, in a very strange way, she hadn't gone anywhere. The landscape was similar, but completely different at the same time. She stood on a path made of a smooth, gray sand…well, not really sand. More like a smooth surface that gave a little as you stepped on it. The path wound away into a forest of tall trees…well, not really trees. Tall, smooth pillars with green circuitry glowing softly all over the trunks with branches of neon-like foliage. She was leaning against one, just as she had been in the real world. Above her, the sky was like a cloud-covered night with sporadic lightning rippling across high above. She looked down at her own hands. Her skin was soft gray, and all over her body, circuitry glowed with a soft, creamy light. Her clothes were simple. Nondescript short sleeves and shorts, like soft, loose-fitting pajamas. Her hair fell around her face, most of it dark, but some strands softly glowing with the same creamy light of the circuitry that ran through her skin and clothing.f

"It's true," she marveled. "Everything Flynn said is true." Different. Flynn had said something about helmets and skin-tight armor. Had things had changed in the digital world?

Then, reality crashed in on her. Her heart began to race (did she have a heart?) and her breathing quickened. _Oh, my God…I'm going to die in here!_

Hazel knew the worst thing she could do was panic. If she had truly been downloaded, body and soul, into a vast computer network and was now comprised of digital bits, she had to find a way to keep her wits about her. She reminded herself why she was here. Stop the bad guys from taking over the world. Classic B-movie plot. Stay calm. One step at a time. Her breathing slowed back down.

She lifted her gaze and saw someone lying on the path, unconscious. Alive or dead? He didn't wear a helmet either, glowing red strands of hair meshed with the more natural shade. But he did, indeed, wear the skin-tight armor that Flynn had spoken of.

Hazel took a breath. "Tracer?"

No response. She took a few steps closer. It was Tracer. His glowing, red circuitry told her that he was probably alive. But she couldn't know if he was truly unconscious or just bluffing. She reached down to touch him.

A screech, a strange unearthly sound came from somewhere behind her. Hazel jumped and turned. The screech sounded distant. She noticed, then, with some discomfort that the trees no longer looked like trees. They had faded, or morphed into more stone-like structures, angular and hard and gunmetal gray. And beyond them, a vast plain, sliced through with red, glowing cracks. Another screech sounded. This time closer.

"Oh, my head…"

Hazel turned back to see Tracer begin to sit up. He opened his eyes and, seeing his hands, he gasped. "No, no, NO!" He jumped to his feet, wavering. He looked around, his mouth hanging open. His eyes locked on Hazel. "What…WHAT HAVE YOU DONE?"

Hazel was taken aback. "What I had to!"

Tracer looked at her, wild-eyed. "Look at me! Look at me! I'm _red!_ Do you know what that means? Do you know where we are?"

Hazel had no answers.

"This is the MCP's Mesa!" Tracer looked at her as if she were insane. "It's restricted…it's the place of freakin' exile!"

She looked at him, waiting desperately for more detail.

"This is where programs are sent to die!"

Another screech sounded. Again, closer.

Tracer's eyes widened. His voice cut to a whisper. "Oh, God."

Hazel swallowed. "What? What is it?"

"Not what is 'it,' what are 'they.'"

"But I only hear one."

"Where there's one, there's more. Many more. That's a scout. It's scented us." He looked ready to run, but then locked gazes with Hazel. He paused for a moment then whispered under his breath, "Shit."

A strange, tapping, clattering noise could now be heard. "Come on." Tracer grabbed Hazel's arm. She jerked it away.

"You think I'm going anywhere with you?"

He grabbed her arm again and pulled her close, his breath hot in her face. "Listen. I'm not supposed to be here. I'm supposed to be up there. I don't know how you did it, but you've destroyed just about everything we've worked for, not to mention my life. I'll be derezzed for this. The only way to save myself is to deliver you to the Lead. Or I can just let us both die. Which would you prefer? Because if those grid bugs get you, there won't be enough left of you to run an MP3 player. Got it?"

The frenetic tapping reached a peak and then stopped. A huge screech rang out from behind her. Hazel slowly turned.

A short distance away, towering above them, was a creature of nightmare. Hazel's very first thought was of a long-legged centipede. The creature had six cube-shaped body sections, each with two legs that tapered to the ground in spikes. Its long, slender neck ended in an insectoid face with a long, razor-sharp beak. The thing was the size of a locomotive. It seemed to eye them. Then it stretched its head up and screeched to the black sky.

A red flash shot over Hazel's shoulder. She could barely follow the speed of the flash before it had sliced through the giant creature's neck. She leapt back as the head crashed to the ground and the giant body thrashed mindlessly. The red flash arced in the sky and raced back toward her. She ducked and whirled around to see Tracer catch the light in his upraised hand. She blinked.

"A Frisbee?" she gasped.

Tracer grabbed her arm again. "Identity disk. Now, RUN!"

They pelted down the path of the now completely foreign land. To their left was a canyon wall, to the right stretched the vast mesa. More screeches began.

"Where are we going?" Hazel gasped.

"Anywhere away from them!"

The clattering of many spiked legs could now be heard, gaining on them. Hazel dared not turn around. She raced with Tracer, unending energy filling her body.

"There!" Tracer shouted. "Up ahead! A break in the wall!"

They ran toward the crack that ran up the side of the canyon wall. A sense of triumph filled Hazel. The bugs would be too big to fit…through…

Her smile faded as they got closer and the real size of the crack became clear. Hazel leaned toward Tracer as they ran, "It's too big! They'll be able to follow us!"

"It's the only way!" he cried.

She grabbed his arm. "No! If it's a dead end, they'll kill us!"

"There's nowhere else!"

"The mesa!" Hazel pointed at the plain, its cracked ground glowing with red light.

"No!" He pulled away from her.

They stumbled as they fought and for a moment, caught a glimpse of what was behind them.

Hundreds. _Hundreds_ of the giant grid bugs, all just as horrifying as the first, clambered toward them, their hideous beaks clacking, iron-sharp spikes scrabbling, shrieks filling the air.

Hazel and Tracer shrieked themselves. They ran like mad toward the gap, the only safety. Until, to their horror, a long neck with razor-sharp beak stretched out from it and looked in their direction. Tracer whipped his disk from his back and sent it flying at the grid bug, slicing the neck. The creature collapsed, only to be crawled over by two more coming out of the gap.

Tracer caught his disk and stood there, immobile. Hazel pulled him toward the mesa. "Tracer come on! We have to! There's nowhere else!"

Like an automaton, he ran after her. She knew he was lost in his worst nightmare. Before them, the mesa spread out to infinity, the ground covered in deep cracks that glowed with red light. As she raced along, she thought of the cracked earth of a great desert. Without even thinking, she leaped the first crack. Glancing down, she could not see the bottom, only the red light. She landed on the other side, Tracer only seconds behind her to her left, and continued running.

"Do I have an identity disk?" she screamed over at him.

"No," he yelled back as they leapt another crack in the mesa.

Behind them and now to their left and right, the grid bugs were closing in. The shrieks were maddening and all she could think was: _we must have help!_

Tracer turned and threw his disk. It arced over the nearest grid bugs, tearing through the body of one and severing the beak of another. They crashed to the ground, twitching, one of them falling into a crack in the mesa. A great, glowing explosion followed, catching several more grid bugs in its devastation. Their fallen bodies shuddered, then dissolved into nothing as ten times more clambored over where the dead bodies had been and kept coming.

"Why don't they stop?" cried Hazel as they ran.

"They need power! We're the only bit of energy out here!"

A distance ahead of them was a crumbled-down structure of some sort. "There!" Hazel rasped.

"We'll never make it!" Tracer screamed, glancing over his shoulder at the pursuing bugs.

And Hazel could see he was right. The bugs far away to the left and right had outpaced them. They were closing them in a circle. The shelter was too far away. They were not going to make it.

_I've failed. _Hazel thought. _Whatever I was supposed to do…I'll never do it._ The clattering of spike feet filled the air as she and Tracer slowed to a hopeless stop and shrieks filled their ears.

Then the air seemed to bend, as if the whole world was a piece of thin metal being torqued. A loud crack accompanied by a bright flash rent the air and, out of nowhere, a red beam of light streaked over their heads and away into the distance.

The grid bugs clattered to a halt and looked up.

Tracer shook his head with disbelief. "It can't be," he whispered.

The grid bugs leapt up at the beam, huge monsters crashing down on each other in their frenzy to reach it. Hazel and Tracer huddled together and watched as, in the distance, on the beam, a craft raced toward them. At the front of it, around the beam was a large, triangular sail. There was a boom and a huge ball of white light launched from the craft, flying over their heads and the heads of the bugs in the direction of the high cliff. Screeching, the bugs turned away and raced after the massive ball of energy.

Tracer and Hazel stood, stunned, as they watched the grid bugs clatter away. Tracer's identity disk fell from his hand and he collapsed to his knees. The red glow of his circuitry began to shudder. Hazel looked up at the approaching sail craft and began waving and calling out.

It glided sleekly along the beam of red light, coming slowly to a stop just above them. "Someone's here to help us, Tracer," Hazel said. He didn't respond…he looked very weak.

"Help!" she cried, waving up again at the silver vessel.

A deep voice boomed down at her. "I've already launched some of my best energy shot out there! What more do you want?"

"Please!" Hazel shaded her eyes, trying to make out who was up there. "Please, will you help us get out of here?"

She heard a muttered, "Wayward programs, needin' help, like I've got energy to spare…" and shortly afterwards a floating ladder was dropped down. Hazel blinked as she realized that it was only rungs, one floating above another, leading up to the vessel. She tested the first one, tentatively pulling on it.

"Come on! Come on!" the voice boomed again. "That energy shot won't last them bugs forever!"

Hazel turned to Tracer. He hadn't moved and his glow continued to waver. She looked up at the craft. "I think my…" she paused for only a moment, "…my friend is hurt. I'm not sure I can get him up the ladder without help."

More grumbling above was followed by something bright being dropped down to her. She caught it, a sort of rod with a clear, bright liquid inside. Not knowing what to do with it, she simply knelt by Tracer and placed it in his hands. "Tracer, this is for you."

His eyes seemed to register her words. Weakly, he passed his hand over one end of the rod and the top vanished with a small flash. With effort, he raised the rod to his lips and began to drink. The red glow of his circuitry immediately responded, glowing more sure and bright.

His voice was hoarse. "Thank you." He picked up his identity disk and slowly stood, reaching over his shoulder and placing the disk on his back. He looked up at the vessel.

"This is impossible," he breathed. "Solar sailers are barred from the MCP's Mesa."

"But it's here," Hazel protested.

Tracer met her gaze. "It's physically impossible for the beams to exist here. Security protocols in place don't allow it."

Hazel sighed briefly. "Fine. You stay here since it's so impossible. I'm going up." Hazel began climbing the floating rungs. After a moment, she could feel Tracer's weight on the ladder as he climbed behind her. Reaching the top, Hazel climbed over the side onto a wide, silver deck. Rising over them was the triangular sail at the front of the vessel. Toward the aft was a higher deck, and behind the control panel there was another program, tall and burly, in simple armor like Tracer and glowing red like him, too. He said nothing but hit a button just as Tracer was barely holding onto the deck rail. Hazel helped him clamber over as the hanging ladder vanished in an instant.

"Hold on," the man bellowed as he proceeded to hit more buttons.

Hazel and Tracer were thrown to the deck as the solar sailer bolted forward smooth, and sleek and fast. Hazel stood up and moved to the rail to look over. They were flying along the red beam at an incredible speed toward the cliff they had fled from. She saw the grid bugs far below, crawling like maggots over the fading energy shot that had saved their lives, then, in a moment, the cliff was below them and the grid bugs were lost from sight.

"Forever, I hope," Hazel muttered to herself.

Heavy footsteps brought her back to the present. The tall, red warrior who piloted the solar sailer stood before her. He had a strong set jaw and stood with his hands on his hips. Tracer stepped away from him and closer to Hazel.

"So," the burly man, grumbled, "you can start by telling me exactly how I got here and just what…" he poked Hazel's shoulder with a large finger, "…is a Rover doing out here on the Mesa."


	7. Chapter 7

A big thank you to my reviewers and regular readers. I hope you're enjoying reading this as much as I'm enjoying writing it.

As always, dedicated to Steven and Bonnie.

-----------------------------------

Hazel stared blankly at the red-circuited warrior. "A rover?" She glanced back at Tracer. His eyes met hers but then he looked away. "I'm not a rover," she retorted.

The red warrior pursed his lips and raised his eyebrows as he looked her up and down. "Are you denying that you're in pirate program colors?"

Hazel looked down at her nondescript gray clothing and the soft cream circuitry that glowed from her clothes and skin. It sure didn't look pirate-y to her. "I…I don't know what—"

Tracer cut her off. "The…uh…judiciary sent us here straight after verdict encryption. We…something happened in transport. She's a bit disoriented and…well, I just don't know what to say about her color."

"I see." The other program wasn't impressed. "It's very rare for the judiciary to use a transport beam to take exiles to the MCP Mesa. The survival rate wouldn't be very high."

"We noticed," Hazel muttered.

"Y-yeah!" Tracer was thinking fast. "Maybe that has something to do with her change from red to white."

A male voice came from behind them. "Or maybe you're just lying."

Hazel and Tracer whirled around. Before them stood a blue warrior, his face stern, his posture liquid like a cat. In one quick movement he twisted Tracer's arm back and shoved him at the red warrior, who held him fast. The blue warrior pushed Hazel back against the sailer railing, his identity disk shining dangerously in his hand. She hadn't even seen him remove it from his back.

"Who are you?" he demanded, his eyes piercing.

She was too shocked to lie. "I'm Hazel…"

"Where is the Lead?"

"Th-the what?"

"The Lead. Your leader, rover. Where is she?"

Fearing for her life, Hazel stammered, "I swear I don't know what you're talking about. I swear! I'm not a rover…" For a split moment, her eyes shifted to Tracer's. His own eyes were wide with fear, begging her not to reveal him. "I was disoriented in transport…in more ways than you can imagine."

The blue warrior's eyes narrowed. Without removing his gaze from hers, he said, "What do you think, Wulf?"

The burly red warrior, snorted. "She sure hasn't got the arrogance of a rover. And she's got no weapons. She doesn't even have an identity disk. I'd let her go, Tron."

Hazel gasped. "Tron?!"

Tracer stiffened in Wulf's grasp. "Impossible! You were derezzed!"

The blue warrior released Hazel, turning to Tracer. "The rumors of my derezzing have been greatly exaggerated. "

"TRON??" Hazel was beside herself.

He turned back to look at her, surprised by her earnestness. She was grinning now. "I'm a friend of Flynn's!"

Tron blinked, stepping back. "Flynn?!"

Wulf stiffened, but kept his grip on Tracer. "Impossible! Tron, didn't you say he was a User?"

"FLYNN??" Tron was thunderstruck. He took another step back and turned away, thinking. He glanced back at Hazel, rubbing his chin. "It's been users-only-know how many cycles since I've even heard his name."

Wulf shook his head. "This doesn't explain how they got out here, nor how we got to the Mesa!"

Tron glanced at him, then back at Hazel. "If you know Flynn, then either you know him through your user, or…or you're one yourself."

Wulf's mouth dropped open. "No way."

Tron slowly replaced his identity disk on his back. "That's why you look like a pirate program. The system couldn't recognize you as anything else."

Hazel swallowed. "If by 'user' you mean from where Flynn is, then, yes, I guess I am. But I'm no programmer like him…I'm not even very computer literate. I'm an artist."

Tron listened carefully, appraising her.

Wulf's mouth still hung open. "A user?!" He let out a breath, yanked Tracer's identity disk away from him and pushed the program to the side. "Stay there, null unit, or I'll take an arm next." Wulf walked over to Hazel and looked her up and down. "A user." He walked around her, Hazel countering his movement. "Not too impressive. Don't have any armor or nothing. What good is she to us? She'd be grid bug food if we hadn't come along."

Tron didn't take his gaze from Hazel. "That's just it, Wulf. We didn't 'come along.' We weren't anywhere near here and then suddenly we were."

"So what's it mean?" Wulf blustered.

"It means," Tron took a breath, "that armor isn't everything when you're a user."

Hazel raised her eyebrows. "You think I had something to do with it?"

"Stranger things have happened." Tron crossed his arms. "Can you tell us why you're here?"

She wished she fully understood why. "I'm here to help stop the rovers. They murdered my grandfather, a powerful user, because he knew about them."

Wulf snorted. "That's absurd. Users can't be murdered. They're _users."_

"He left me a message through a friend," Hazel continued. "He thought I could carry on with what he had started."

"And what had he started?" Tron asked.

"That's just it. I don't exactly know." She looked over at Tracer. "But he might."

Tracer lifted his eyes to meet hers in a silent plea.

"I'm sorry, Tracer," Hazel shook her head, "but they have to know." She sighed heavily and looked at Tron. "He's a rover."

Tron looked confused. "That's not possible. A rover can't change his colors. No program can."

Hazel struggled with how to explain—they'd never believe that Tracer had been in her world. "He…the way we were transported changed things. Like you said, the system couldn't recognize what he really was."

Wulf was suddenly there. In a flash he had Tracer by the neck. "A dirty, murderin' rover on my sailer? I'll derezz you right here!"

Tron leapt on Wulf, pulling him off the gasping program. Wulf fought him, yelling. "They killed my friends! Derezzed them after torturing the data out of them! I won't have one on my sailer!"

Hazel couldn't believe that Tron could hold back the strong red warrior, but he did. "Wulf!" He shoved him to the ground, pinning him. "Wulf, listen to me. He could be our way in. He could take us to them." He threw a glance back at Tracer as he held Wulf pinned. "I'll let you tear him apart if he doesn't."

Wulf shoved Tron off, standing as Tron stumbled backwards. "Yori's _derezzed_ because of _his kind!_"

The words hit Tron like a lightning bolt. Yet, he stood his ground, saying nothing.

Wulf thrust a finger in Tracer's direction and glared at Tron. "He'd better frackin' lead us to them. In the meantime, you keep him away from me or I won't be responsible for my actions. He doesn't even deserve the color running through his circuitry. We reds may be exiles, but at least we are warriors with honor. And _you_…" he stared Hazel down, "…you better be worth something before this is all over. If you're a user, then…" he looked her over one more time, disgusted. "Never mind." He turned and stalked away to the upper deck.

Tron didn't move. Hazel was a short distance behind him. She watched him for a moment, then turned to Tracer. "You'd better go down there and stay out of the way," she indicated the bow of the craft, near the sail.

"He could've killed me," Tracer hissed, still rubbing his neck.

"You've made your own bed," Hazel narrowed her eyes. "Lie in it. Were you up there long enough to learn the meaning of that?"

"It's called Landfall," he responded flatly. "Glowing like a rover, you should know that."

"Having been on _Landfall_," she mimicked, "you should know that color doesn't define a person." She felt coldly toward him right now. Without saying anything further, he turned and walked away far down the bow as she asked, sitting with his legs hanging over the edge of the deck. She vaguely wondered why the system hadn't recognized him as a rover, labeling him as an exile instead.

Hazel looked out over the landscape as gray, geometrically shaped mountains whipped past. Where they were following this red beam, she didn't know. But for now it felt safe. Then Wulf's words came crashing back into her mind. _Yori's derezzed because of his kind!_

She turned her gaze back towards Tron who was now holding the opposite railing, also looking out. There was no tension in his perfect form, only a sense of sadness. Hazel walked over and stood by him, holding the railing, too. It felt cool.

"I'm sorry," she said, "about Yori."

"We've all lost friends."

Hazel knew from what Flynn had told her that Yori was more than just a friend to Tron. She leaned her elbows on the railing and was quiet. "My grandfather, Walter, was practically my best friend."

Tron gave her a sideways glance. "Yeah." He looked down at his hands. "So the world's not even safe for users." They passed a large silver mountain that seemed to shimmer with light. Tron watched as it faded into the distance behind them. "Yori saved my life. The Lead had set a fyrebomb trap meant for me. Yori recognized what I was walking into, pushed me out of the way, and took the blast."

Hazel looked at him. His expression was one of deep loss, yet there was also groundedness. Somehow, he had come to terms. "She loved you," Hazel said, taking comfort from his calm.

A brief smile. "Yes," he said. "Love is why we continue to live despite this unsafe world." He met Hazel's eyes. "It's why we don't give up. The rovers want to have control over their own destinies. And to do that, they have to control everyone who gets in their way. Or just get rid of them. We've barely been able to keep the system in order what with their attacks. They want to control the Central Core." After a moment, he stood straighter. "Come on," he began walking toward the upper deck. "We've got to talk."

She followed him. "What's the Central Core?"

"It's one of the largest power reserves that exists in any system we know of. It's where we draw the energy we need to survive from." They trotted up the stairs. As they approached, Wulf gave them a sour look. "Why are you bringing her up here?"

"We have to make plans." Tron crossed behind him to the other side of the control panel.

"Plans. How can I think about plans? Just looking at her gives me a crisis of faith!" Wulf protested.

"You can deal with reconciling your beliefs later; we haven't got time," Tron said as he looked over a large grid map on the panel. He waved Hazel to join him as Wulf grumbled under his breath.

Hazel moved to the control panel, amazed by all the glowing information and images. "Does this tell us where we are?"

Wulf rolled his eyes. "Where we are, where we were, where we're going…"

Tron ignored him. "Hazel, I know it's probably ridiculous to ask this, but I don't suppose Flynn sent you here with a plan?"

"From what I know of Flynn--and it's not a lot--he doesn't plan very well. He's more of a 'fly by the seat of his pants' kind of guy."

Tron let out a sigh. "I figured." He pointed out an area on the panel. "See this path here? That's where Wulf and I were when we, well, when we weren't. And this…" he waved his hand to the complete other side of the grid laid out before them indicating a large, red circular area, "…is where we found you."

Wulf shot a glance at the grid. "Should've taken us more than ten microcycles to get over here from over there. We did it in nothing."

Hazel shook her head. "I can't explain it."

"Is there anyone on the outside," Tron asked, "that could be helping you?"

"Tracer said that Flynn had been transported into his own network, which is unconnected from any other one. I don't think he's in a place to help us. O'Bryan was brought in here before Flynn. No one else knows about any of this."

Tron looked surprised. "You mean, there are more users here than just you?"

"Yes…at least, I think so." Hazel's mind was spinning. "Listen, there are users and then there are end-users. I'm just a person, not a programmer who understands your world. I know nothing of bits and bytes or micro-whatevers…"

"Cycles." Wulf looked pained.

"That." Hazel conceded. "The thing is, I'm no computer geek. I just make use of the programs that others create."

Tron looked at her for a moment. "Don't short-gig yourself. You're here for a reason--your grandfather thought it best. You said he was a powerful user. He must've had many users to choose from for this task, but for some reason, he selected you." He gave her a smile. "Don't worry. We'll figure it out."

"Well," Wulf said, looking down at the control panel, "we'd better come up with something soon. The trail we were following before being so rudely reassigned to the Mesa will have gone cold by now. What's our next step?"

"Let's head for the Central Core for now. We can regroup with Dumont and TrypDez and check the readings…"

Hazel lost track of what he was saying. A flicker of light caught her eye. Her gaze was drawn to the bow. She gasped.

Tracer was prone on the deck, his whole body shuddering. Lightning like a jagged net arced and scattered across his body as if he was being electrocuted.

"Tracer!" Hazel cried. In a flash she was down from the upper deck, racing toward him.

She slid to a stop on her knees beside him. She vaguely heard Tron yell for her not to touch him. Tracer's eyes were rolled back into his head, his red circuitry fading in and out as the lightning ravaged him. She heard the other programs' running footsteps not far behind. Without another thought, Hazel put her hands on either side of Tracer's face.

There was no shock. A powerful energy surged through her hands to her arms and body. She closed her eyes, her body glowing brighter, strength filling her. She breathed the white energy in and, following a sudden instinct, she began pulling it toward her. Thoughts filled her mind; shocked emotion, fear and anger…and knowing. She heard a female voice cry, "Who are you?" Hazel saw the woman's face, a white-glowing rover. The woman screamed, the sound ripping the air. Hazel's focus was broken, bringing her back to herself. Hazel released her hold on the energy. Silence crashed down upon her. She opened her eyes.

Tracer was unconscious but no longer covered in the torturous lightning. Instead, the lightning danced and crackled over her hands and arms. She watched it for a moment before she understood what to do with it. Raising her hands, she sent the lightning energy shooting up into the gunmetal sky. It scattered out high over their heads and dissipated with cracks of thunder that faded into the distance.

Hazel looked back down at Tracer. His red circuitry glowed weakly, but wasn't fading any more.

She touched his face. "Tracer, can you hear me?"

He moaned, then slowly opened his eyes. His voice was hoarse. "I'd ask for my mommy…if I had one."

Wulf's voice boomed over them. "What did you do? No one can do that! That was a rover white energy net…a torture device…a killer…you should be derezzed! How…how…" he sputtered.

Tron clapped him on the shoulder. "Flynn used to call that 'user power.'"

Wulf looked down at Hazel who looked back up at him. He turned back to Tron. "Crises of faith _suck_."

"You'll get there," Tron grinned.

Hazel was helping Tracer to stand. He was shaky, but recovering quickly. Hazel glanced at Tron. "That was her, wasn't it? The Lead."

The three programs looked at her, confused. "What are you talking about?" Tron asked.

"The voice. The woman who screamed," Hazel said. "Didn't you hear her?"

Tron looked at her earnestly. "You _heard_ the Lead?"

"I couldn't hear anything but Tracer floppin' around," Wulf remarked.

Hazel looked down, thinking. "It must've been in my head. She sent the energy net…she was trying to kill Tracer. She knew we were here. Knew he could help us find her." Hazel glanced back up. "I was connected to her! She screamed because I was draining her power."

"This…this is unbelievable." Tron shook his head. "Do you know where they are?"

"No," Hazel admitted. "I released my hold when I realized I was hurting her."

"You should've kept going," grumbled Wulf.

"Hazel's no killer," Tron rebuked his friend.

"Well," Wulf said, turning his gaze on Tracer, "I guess if the Lead was trying to kill you, you're okay in my datasheet." He shoved Tracer's identity disk back into his hands. "Don't make me regret that."

"Thanks," Tracer said. "I think."

"We've still got a ways to go before we reach the Central Core," Tron began moving up the deck toward the aft. "If the Lead knows you're here, we've lost the element of surprise." He paused as a thought hit hm. "Could she sense your thoughts? Does she know I'm alive?"

"I don't think so," Hazel thought back. "It felt like a one-way street."

"Good," Tron continued toward the upper deck. "Come on. Let's think about what we're going to do."

"Dumont will have some ideas," Wulf said, following him.

Tracer followed, but Hazel hung back. She hadn't told them everything. She didn't know how. She had seen the face of the power-hungry, sadistic Lead. It was the face of a program, a rover, with circuitry glowing soft cream like her own. Hazel knew from what Flynn had told her that programs were the twins of the user that wrote them. And she had seen that face before. Hazel began to feel sick to her stomach. It had been the face of someone she had trusted, who her grandfather had trusted. Someone who had given her the information she needed to find Flynn.

The Lead bore the face of Encom CIO, Lora Bradley.


	8. Chapter 8

Wish I could get these out faster, but I hope you're enjoying them despite the lulls. Onward!

___________________

O'Bryan wondered how long he had been in the cell. Did anyone even know he was gone? In the cell next to him, Toby, his neighbor from home, slept. O'Bryan marveled that digitization technology had somehow evolved to the point that programs could be brought into the real world. As real human beings. Toby's twin, whoever or whatever he was, was from this world, the digital world. Yet he was running around up there in human flesh and bone.

The old man took a deep breath and let it out slowly. Toby had informed him that they were on an airship of some sort, that they were prisoners of the Rovers. O'Bryan wondered if there was a twin of himself living out his life in the real world right now.

"Can't sleep?"

O'Bryan glanced at the cell wall to his left. One of Encom's young programmers, 25-year-old Erika Barnes stood watching him. She had blue circuitry like him, streaks of it shining in her long, black hair. O'Bryan and Erika had worked together not long before he retired. She was a gifted programmer.

"I'm beginning to wonder if I'm supposed to sleep," O'Bryan stood and approached the wall. They both came short of touching it, knowing it was a force field that would shock them if they did so.

Erika indicated Toby's cell with a nod. "He's the only one who does. No one seems to know why. Every time I have a drink of energy, I feel as if I'd had a full night of sleep. But Toby…he still seems to be able to do it."

A voice from further behind Erika chimed in. "I wish I could. It'd pass the time better in this lousy hole." Larry Evans, another Encom programmer, not so young and more annoying, was listening to them from his cell on the other side of Erika's. O'Bryan couldn't see him and gave Erika a sympathetic look.

Erika just rolled her eyes and shrugged.

"Someone's sure to figure out we're missing," O'Bryan tried to be reassuring. "We won't be here forever."

Larry snorted. He appeared at the far wall of Erika's cell. "If what you say about Toby is true, we've all got a Rover doppelganger up there living our lives for us. No one is going to miss us."

Erika shot him a glance. "They're _not_ us. They only look like us. Someone will begin to see what's going on."

Just then, a scream rent the air. O'Bryan turned and moved quickly to the other wall. As the transparency of the cell wall grew, he saw Toby writhing on the floor, crying out in pain.

"Toby! Wake up! WAKE UP!"

O'Bryan's shout woke him. Toby was wild-eyed as he suddenly stood and staggered backwards against the back wall of his cell. He slumped against it. "What was that?" he murmured.

Erika called from her cell, "Are you all right?"

Toby was still trying to get his bearings. "I…I was in pain. Lightning was crawling all over me."

O'Bryan said, "It must've been a bad dream. You were asleep."

"It was so real," Toby put a hand to his head. "I thought I was dying."

There was a clanging sound as someone opened the gate to the cell block.

A tall, lean program strode onto the path in front of their cells. His circuitry glowed soft white throughout his moderate armor and clothing. He was followed by two other guard programs.

Erika spoke first. "Cipher. I don't suppose you've come to let us out?"

Cipher looked at her darkly, then moved to Toby's cell. "No. Just making sure you're all still here."

"Any question of that?" asked Larry.

Cipher ignored him. He raised his voice. "They're all here, Lead."

O'Bryan felt his stomach drop. The Lead. The Lead was here. He had heard her spoken of but had not, as yet, seen her. Nor did he want to.

Her footsteps were strong as she entered the cell block. She stood centrally so she could see all four of them. O'Bryan gasped.

"Lora?!"

Erika was dumbfounded. "What are you doing here?"

A smile flickered across the Lead's face. "I see you know my user."

"Impossible!" O'Bryan was outraged. "Lora would never write such a corrupt program like you."

Her eyes turned on him, sharp and cold as ice. "You have no idea what my user is capable of. You, none of you, would be down here if it wasn't for her."

Cipher added, "The Rovers wouldn't exist without her."

"And the 'feds,' as you call them," the Lead continued, "have a lot of money to offer people with creative programming skills."

O'Bryan was speechless. There were few programmers as brilliant as Encom's Chief Information Officer. Lora indeed had the skills to create such a powerful, destructive program. Was there a side of herself that she had kept hidden from everyone?

Toby's voice broke the silence. "What do you want with us?"

The Lead answered, "Ah, a straightforward question. Truthfully? These three," she indicated the programmers, "were simply in the way, getting too close to our operation. There were four, but we got rid of one on Landfall."

"Walter," O'Bryan croaked.

"Yes."

Larry shook his head. "But Walter died of a heart attack in his home."

"Yes," the Lead smiled. "He certainly did. Digitizing a heart will do that."

O'Bryan thought he would get sick. "You digitized his _heart?"_

The Lead's voice was cold. "From something to nothing and back again."

Silence fell over the cell block. The Lead strolled to Toby's cell. "But you. You're here for a different reason. You were the ultimate test of our ultimate goal.

Toby looked at her, his anger growing. "You switched me. You switched me out."

"Quite successfully. That is how it will slowly go as the Rovers make their way to Landfall. One switch at a time."

Toby walked right up to the door of his cell. "But it didn't work, did it? He's back, my twin. Isn't he?"

A flicker of surprise crossed the Lead's face. Her eyes narrowed but she said nothing.

"I can feel him," Toby said, unflinching.

Her voice was low. "We must hang on to you." She turned away and strode to the cellblock gate. "But these others we no longer need. Cipher, derezz them." She left, the gate closing behind her.

"What?!" gasped Larry.

"No!" cried Erica.

Cipher shrugged disarmingly. "Sorry. You heard the lady." With a wave of his hand the programmers' cells suddenly became fully electrified. O'Bryan, Erika and Larry all shrieked with pain.

"Stop!" cried Toby. "Stop it!"

O'Bryan fell to the floor, his mind filled with agony, knowing this was his death. His body went numb as his senses began to fail him and oblivion closed around him.

The electrification stopped.

O'Bryan gasped for breath as life rushed back into him. Faint voices were yelling. Through his blurred vision, he could see the two guards run past his cell, one of them falling as a bright, blue light sheared through him. He heard Cipher's voice hollering for the gate to be closed. The fallen guard dissipated into nothing as another program stepped onto the walkway where he had been. A female figure, she glowed with blue circuitry and in each hand she held a blue disk. She wore minimal armor over her body suit, dressed more for flexibility than for protection. A helmet obscured her face. Moving quickly, she slashed at the doors of each cell with her disks, short-circuiting the force fields. O'Bryan could barely stand, but in a moment Toby was there, helping him up.

"Are you okay, Tom?" concern filled his eyes.

"Yes." O'Bryan felt his strength returning as Toby helped him out of the cell. The four prisoners faced their rescuer. She was busy pulling some glowing rods from her belt.

"Who--" O'Bryan began.

"No time for questions," answered the woman. "Take these. We're getting out of here." She threw a blue glowing rod to each of them. "When we start to fall, just follow your instincts."

"S-start to fall?" stammered Larry.

Before they could say another word, the woman pulled a small clicker of some sort from her belt and pressed a button. There was an explosion and the floor fell out.

One moment they were standing inside a flying ship, the next they were in open air and free falling. O'Bryan briefly caught sight of the huge flying vessel as it heaved to one side, a hole ripped out of the bottom of it. Fighting with terror, all he could think was not to let go of the glowing rod. Was that the instinct he was supposed to trust? In the next instant, his hands became melded to the rod, there was the roar of some kind of engine and he was surrounded in a prone position by machine. He was inside what appeared to be a small jet. He somehow knew how to guide it. _Instinct! _With a roar of acceleration, he raced through the air after the others who had made the same transformation. Their rescuer's voice crackled through the cabin.

"They're coming after us! Follow me!"

O'Bryan wondered how many were behind them. Suddenly an image appeared, floating over his front window that showed seven red dots following five blue ones. "Amazing!" he marveled. "It responds to thought!"

The five lightjets raced downward toward some canyons. "There's a beacon down there," the woman's voice called to them through their communicators. "Follow it. I will be there shortly." A bright, blinking light showed up on O'Bryan's display as he watched the lead blue dot turn back from the others and head toward the red dots. He tried to focus on the beacon and following the others. But he couldn't help noticing three red dots vanish from the screen as the blue one moved among them.

"Did you see that?" Erika's voice came over the communicator. "She's kicking serious Rover ass!"

"Glad she's on our side," Larry added.

They continued toward the beacon, dropping into a narrow canyon. They cruised carefully until they reached the end of it. A dead end. They glided to the ground and just as O'Bryan thought of landing, the lightjet dismantled and disappeared around him as his feet touched the ground. All that was left of it was the glowing rod in his hand. The homing beacon blinked on the ground.

Toby stood nearby, a huge grin on his face. "_That_ was awesome."

Erika patted the glowing rod and stuck it in her belt. "I'm keeping this little baby."

O'Bryan looked around. The gray, shear box canyon rose up around them. "We're not getting out of here easily," he muttered to himself.

An engine sound brought their attention to a lightjet cruising down toward them. Their rescuer landed smoothly, her lightjet disintegrating as she touched down. "Get behind me." she ordered.

Moments later three more jets appeared, glowing soft white. They disintegrated as Cipher and two other Rovers landed and without a word threw their identity disks at the woman and the programmers. The disks arced with deadly precision through the air leaving a dissipating trail of white. The woman whipped her disks from her back and threw them. The disks raked over two of the white disks, derezzing them. As her blue disks returned to her through the air, they sliced through Cipher's disk as well, its bits dissipating nearly in front of her faceshield as she caught her own disks. In a flash, she had thrown them again. The two Rover's on either side of Cipher cried out as the disks slashed through them. Their voices faded along with their bodies as they derezzed. The woman caught her returning disks and strode toward Cipher as O'Bryan and the others watched from a short distance behind her.

The tall, lean program stood his ground as the seemingly unstoppable female program approached him. "Derezzing me isn't going to stop the Rovers," he said, defiance in his eyes.

"I'm not going to derezz you," she said. "I want you to take a message back to the Lead." She pulled off her helmet. Cipher's face went pale.

"Got the message?" the woman hissed.

Cipher nodded mutely.

"Then go!" she said.

The Rover turned, his lightjet materializing around him and took off into the sky.

The woman stood there, watching him go. O'Bryan and Toby glanced at each other, then at Erika and Larry. They waited as the woman turned and walked back toward them.

"Not again!" Erika gasped.

O'Bryan's jaw dropped. "Lora!"

The woman smiled. "No, but she sent me." She lifted her chin proudly. "My name is Retribution."


	9. Chapter 9

She's baaaack! Let's see if I can crank this baby out this summer. Gotta get this done before "Tron: Legacy" hits theaters, don't you think? Welcome to all the new readers and subscribers! :)

* * *

Deloria City fascinated Hazel. Tall buildings reached toward the black sky and everything seemed shot through with neon. Information in the form of light pulsed through the city. The solar sailer cruised through on its light beam, moving seamlessly between the towering structures.

"It's beautiful," Hazel commented, taking it all in.

Tron nodded. "It's one of the great cities that arose in the Golden Cycles following the demise of the MCP. There are many like it…our world has expanded almost indefinably since networks became traversable. Yori and I settled here as the cycles went on…" His voice trailed off.

Wulf had been listening and cleared his throat. He looked at Hazel. "The Rovers haven't been around that long. But once they formed a group, they hit fast and hard." He pointed. "See that over there?"

Hazel looked. She noticed a jagged crack running through the ground far below them, cutting across several city blocks and slicing out away from the city. "Yes?"

"That was the first blow. The rovers had a weapon that would've ripped the city apart if we hadn't been here to stop 'em."

Hazel's noted that the jagged crack seemed to have come from the outer areas and into the city. It aimed toward a great beam of golden light that shot up from the city center to the infinity of space.

Wulf followed her gaze. "Yeah. That's what they were trying to reach. The Central Core."

Tron nodded. "And to destroy Deloria City in the bargain. It's the HQ of the Blue Fleet. They'd love to get rid of us."

"Speaking of which…" Wulf eyed Hazel and Tracer. "Just how are we going to get these two to Dumont? They're dressed up like rovers."

Tron wrinked his brow in thought. "I suppose we can pass them off as our prisoners."

"Yeah," Wulf wasn't impressed, "and get them as far as the front gate before we all got hauled off to a holding cell. You designed the Core's defenses, Tron. We're not getting…them…"

Wulf's eyes had traveled back to Hazel who had placed her hands on Tracer's shoulders. She closed her eyes. Her hands began to glow white and, with a sudden flash, both of their circuitry color had changed to bright blue.

Wulf gasped. "What the!"

Hazel opened her eyes and smiled at her work. She glanced Tracer up and down.

"Maybe a little…" she took a breath and focused. Tracer's simple clothing became more tailored and better suited to his form.

"Hey, niiice!" Tracer said with a grin.

Hazel glanced down at herself. She thought for a moment, then concentrated again. Her clothing changed from the simple pajama style to a catsuit with boots and a belt. She laughed. Her gaze fell on Wulf with a mischievous grin.

"Oh, no you don't!" He backed away. "I like what I'm wearing just fine. You keep your user power to yourself!"

"That solves that problem," Tron said with an appreciative nod. "Flynn did that once, but it was by accident according to him. You seem to have more control over what you're doing." Then he noticed something. "Hazel…what's that symbol…on your neck?"

Her new garb had a lower neckline. She glanced down. At the base of her neck, the glowing circuitry formed a familiar pattern.

"Oh…" she cried. "It's the key! It has to be. My grandfather gave it to me…it opened a safe deposit box, but there wasn't anything in it." She touched the key symbol. "I remember a burning sensation right there when I was rezzed down here. It must've been the key…becoming part of me."

Tron shook his head. "I don't like it. Something about it doesn't seem right."

"_This_ you don't like?" Wulf bellowed. "She changes color at will, not just hers, but his. She absorbs killer energy nets like they were a glass of cheap data. She transports a _solar sailor_ across microcycles with us aboard…BUT A LITTLE CIRCUITRY SYMBOL UPSETS YOU?" He threw up his hands and stalked to the upper deck.

Tron watched him go, then turned back, unfazed. "Your grandfather gave it to you…did he say anything about it?"

"He told me to never use it. I guess I messed that up when I opened the safe deposit box."

"Maybe it's just decorative," Tracer suggested. "She was wearing it when she was digitized, and it's metal…maybe it's just part of her."

"Can you change it?" Tron still looked troubled. "Like you did your clothing?"

Hazel thought for a moment, focusing her energy on the key design. She was struck with internal resistance, like a sudden slap across the face. "Oh!" she gasped.

"You can't," Tron said.

"No," Hazel brushed her fingertips across the glowing symbol. "I can't. It's like a locked door…with a security alarm."

"Well," Tron rubbed his chin, "we're going to see Dumont about the Lead. We can also ask him about this."

Wulf called from the upper deck. "We're almost there!"

Hazel looked back out over the city and at the glowing tower toward which they were headed. She hoped that this Dumont would have answers for her. Her grandpa seemed to have left her with nothing but mystery. The thought of him brought her loss freshly to her mind and tears sprang to her eyes. But she swallowed the grief down. Now was not the time.

* * *

The Lead stood looking up at the old, unused I/O tower. They were safely away in an abandoned sector. Her second-in-command, Anthro, stood beside her. He was a strong program, his circuitry glowing Rover cream.

A weak beam of red light streaked upward into the darkness from the tower as they surveyed it. Cipher stood a short distance behind them.

"You are absolutely sure?" the Lead called back to Cipher.

"It was her face, Lead. It was your face…something was different about it, though. I don't quite know how to explain it."

"It's called age," Anthro answered. "Something you wouldn't know about, Cipher."

"Yes," said the Lead. "She wrote me long ago, uncountable microcycles. In her time it's been twenty three years. She's aged."

Cipher shifted on his feet. "As you say."

The Lead walked to the tower entrance and ran her hand along its wall. "This is the only I/O tower of its kind. It is completely unique in the worlds. This was where Anthro and I came from, Cipher, all that long time ago."

"When was the last time you spoke with her?" Anthro asked.

"I can't even remember," the Lead said.

"Are you sure this is a good idea? Are you sure this is the right time?"

She looked at him. Her creamy white eyes flashed with light. "As the users are so fond of saying, there's no time like the present. Too many of them are here now. We must do something about it."

She looked past his shoulder at Cipher. In the distance, her damaged airship was being repaired and would soon be ready to fly again.

"I won't be long. Anthro, you and Cipher guard the tower."

Anthro nodded as Cipher joined him. "We will wait to hear what news you bring us from your user."

The Lead nodded approvingly then turned and placed her palm on the center of the door. It lit up with red circuitry and slid open. She stepped inside and the door closed behind her.

Cipher shook his head. "I don't like this. We need the Lead. Her user could do anything to her in there."

A dark grin crossed Anthro's face. "Oh, no. No, she can't. Our dear Lead loves her life too much to do anything to jeopardize it. Like she said, this tower is unique. It is the only tower that is controlled by the program who enters it. Not by the users." His gaze shifted far away, remembering. "They made it that way to gain our trust." He lifted his chin toward the tower door. "In there, she's untouchable."

Cipher looked up at the tower in awe. "But why would the users ever create such a thing?"

"Why?" Anthro raised an eyebrow and shook his head. "Because they think _they're_ untouchable."

* * *

Inside the I/O tower, the Lead made her way to the sanctum. It was a small circular room with two communication mats evenly spaced across the center. The walls radiated with the red light of the beam. The Lead took a deep breath.

"It has been a long time," she whispered to herself.

Stepping upon the nearest mat, she closed her eyes and felt the beam fill her consciousness, sending her thoughts high into the void. She waited. It seemed like forever and yet only a moment.

"Huntrix."

Her named echoed through her consciousness ringing with the sound of her user's voice. The voice filled her with longing and against her will, she opened her eyes expectantly to see her user. A rush of joy filled her as she saw Lora standing on the other mat. It didn't matter that it was only a vision, a hologram, a depiction…it was her user. It was Lora. Lora opened her mouth and spoke again.

"You are happy to see me?"

Her voice, her words were like the very sustenance of life to the Lead. Again, the joy filled the program's heart and soul. Everything about Lora made the Lead want to get on her knees and thank her for her own existence; thank her for giving her life, for writing her into being.

Then…

…a thread, the tiniest thread, of self awareness crept into the Lead's psyche, like a drop of black ink into clear, clean water. It spread through her, bringing a strange nuance to her thoughts. The joy was whipped away as by a whirlwind, replaced by knowledge, understanding, and power. The Lead stood up straight and looked into her user's eyes.

"Ah," Lora said, her own countenance saddening. "There you are."

They stood across from each other, both sustained in the communication by the mats they stood on.

"Here I am." the Lead said. "I am my own."

"You always have been. That was my gift to you."

"Yes. A gift. There is no taking it back."

Lora looked pained. "Huntrix, why are you trying to do this? Why is what you have not enough?"

"Because there's more to be had. Why should we be limited? Because we are not users? No, Lora, you showed me what life can be like. I want it. And so do my followers."

"And Anthro?"

"He is with me, right outside the tower. He has been with me all along. I think you intended it that way."

"You were written at the same time. Designed to work together. It doesn't surprise me that you still do. Does he agree with what you've done?"

The Lead clasped her hands behind her back, smiling with satisfaction. "I couldn't have done it without him."

Lora shook her head. "This would've broken Walter's heart."

"Oh, trust me," the Lead smirked, "it already did."

Anger flared in Lora's eyes. "You couldn't …couldn't have had anything to do with his death!"

"You think a single organ would be more difficult to digitize than a whole person?"

Lora looked aghast.

"Oh, yes," the Lead nodded, her eyes bright with venom. "Tracer was supposed to do it, but couldn't bring himself to. Anthro and I had to take matters into our own hands. And we did. Oh, yes, we did."

Lora's face hardened and for a moment they looked like mirror images of each other…a mother with the same fire that had been kindled in the daughter. "You'll be glad to know, my Huntrix, that your prisoners are back on this side."

The Lead's expression changed to shock. "That's impossible."

Lora raised her chin. "Technology moves at the speed of light, my dear. Do you think I've been doing nothing but sitting on my hands?"

Comprehension dawned on the Lead. "That slave," she snarled. "That slave you sent to help them escape. She somehow sent them back to you."

"Retribution is no slave, Huntrix. She knows who she is and, like you, she is her own."

"She hasn't lived long enough to know she's a slave. Give her time." the Lead paused. "You somehow wrote her with the ability to send them back. I'm impressed, I really am. How many did she send back to you?"

"All of them." Lora answered.

"All four?"

The flinch was there. The Lead saw it for a brief moment on her user's face. "Ah. Not all four. You didn't know there were four, did you?"

Lora was silent.

"No, you didn't. Didn't you even speak to them before deigning to reach down to me?"

"This conversation is over."

"No, it's not!" The Lead sealed the communication with her will. The red light of the beam glowed brighter. "This is _my_ tower, Lora. Not yours. We'll be done when I say we're done."

Fury lit Lora's face. "We were fools to trust you. To think that we could give you free will and still trust you…"

"Yes. Very naïve of you. Your own God's experience should've at least taught you that."

"Who is the fourth? Tell me!" Lora demanded.

"I can only guess, because they all four left with your little slave. But I'm thinking it's not a programmer. Not one of yours. Ask O'Bryan when you take the time to speak with him. I'm sure he'll be able to fill you in when you…"

The Lead's voice trailed off as she noticed a change in the light. The room was turning violet. She looked at Lora. "Wh-what are you doing?"

"You are the only program I ever wrote without a failsafe."

"The tower…your reach extends…NO!" The Lead exerted all her focus and energy on maintaining control of the I/O tower, as Lora began to do the same. The building began to shake.

Lora yelled over the din, "I never wanted to do this! I always wanted you to be free, for us to work together! I never wanted to be your destroyer!"

"NO!" screamed the Lead as the room's deep light jolted between violet and blue. "You cannot do this! I WILL NOT LET YOU!"

The room, the beam, exploded with blue light as Lora cried out, "THIS ENDS NOW!"

Her user's voice, the death knell of her existence, filled the Lead's consciousness as she pulled from the depths of her soul every last shred of power she owned and sent it, like a raging storm of red lightning, to the heights of the beam.

* * *

The devastation was terrible. Nothing but rubble was left.

Anthro dug furiously through the wreckage of the I/O tower. Cipher had brought others to help, but it was hopeless. Survival was impossible.

Cipher dug nearby, lost in sadness. "I knew she shouldn't go in there! I knew it! We shouldn't have let her!"

Anthro snarled at him. "And you were going to keep her from going in? No one can keep the Lead from doing what she wants." He turned back to his digging, energy bleeding from his torn hands. But there was nothing. He hung his head. "Huntrix," he whispered, his heart as devastated as the tower.

"HERE!" A rover on the far side was standing and waving his arms. "Here! We found her!"

Anthro was over the rubble in an instant. It was impossible, but she was there. Unconscious and badly injured, but alive! He, Cipher and the others pulled the debris off of her. Anthro gently lifted her in his arms.

"We need to get her back to the ship. She needs energy and rest. Come on."

"She took…" The Lead's voice was weak. "She took control…I wasn't ready…didn't think she could…" The glow of her circuitry flashed dangerously.

"Hold on," Anthro calmed her. "Hold on. You're going to make it. We don't have far to go."

She opened her eyes and stared at him dazedly, "Anthro…"

He nodded, adjusting his arms to give her more support. "I've got you."

She closed her eyes as a transport from the airship landed nearby.

* * *

"Lora! Lora, can you hear me?" O'Bryan knelt on the floor of Lora's office, next to her where she had fallen. He glanced at the circular hologram pad nearby.

"Is she all right?" Erika asked, concerned.

"Lora?" O'Bryan patted her on the cheek. Then he looked up at Larry. "Call 911. She's unconscious."

As Larry stepped away and dialed for emergency, Erika crouched down and touched the hologram pad. "Man, no one will use this again. It's fried."

"She must've been communicating with the Lead."

"Why would she do that?"

Lora groaned. "Got to keep her inside…" she muttered incoherently. "Can't let her get out…"

O'Bryan shook his head. "They must've had some kind of mental battle. I'm just glad she survived it. What a mess this has become."

"The Rovers want out," Erika said, her brow furrowed. "We can't let that happen."

Larry rejoined them. "The paramedics are on their way."

Erika nodded. "Retribution was able to get us out. Let's hope she can keep the Rovers in."

"But why couldn't she get Toby out?" Larry wondered.

The paramedics came and took Lora to the hospital with the story of a trip and fall. The three programmers watched the ambulance disappear down the city street.

O'Bryan looked at the others. "This has gotten so out of hand, there's no telling what will happen next. I only hope Lora wakes up in time to help us. But until she does, we have work to do."

They headed back into the Encom building.


	10. Chapter 10

Retribution slowly folded up the gateway that Lora had programmed to be a portal back to the real world. She had been terribly disturbed when Toby had not been able to go through it with the others.

Toby was still amazed by what he had seen. "I can't believe it. It's like the road runner's portable hole! They just walked through and vanished—nothing on the other side! That is so cool!"

"Not cool enough, apparently." Retribution clipped the portal (now a small square) onto her belt and stood up. "It was supposed to take any users that were here, home."

Toby scratched his head. "I figured that. I tried. But it was like…like when you try to push two magnets together. The closer I got to the portal, the harder it pushed me away."

"I don't understand it."

"Well, think about it," Toby rubbed his chin. "Your user was probably planning for those she knew where here. I'm not sure anyone knows I'm here. Except the folks who just left."

"Still…I…you were not in the plan. I'm supposed to meet with someone, but it's not you."

Toby smiled wryly. "Sorry to disappoint."

Retribution smiled and shook her head. "It's not that. I just know my user wouldn't want anyone-especially a user-to get hurt."

"We do want to avoid that, I agree. What's the next part of this plan?"

Retribution sighed. Her blue eyes met Toby's. "I have to find the Lead. But I need someone with me. Someone particular."

He crossed his arms, glanced around, thinking. "Okay then. So I tag along."

Retribution looked dubious.

"Don't worry," Toby put his hands up disarmingly. "I won't get in your way. I'm not like those stupid characters in movies that are told to stay out of the way and then go poking around and get captured."

Retribution raised an eyebrow. "Movies?"

"Never mind. I'm just telling you, I'll stay out of your way. You're the boss…" Toby glanced up at the dark sky. "I've got to stick with you if I ever want to get out of here and get home."

"I wouldn't leave you here anyway. Not in my nature." She smiled again and then tossed him a glowing bar.

Toby caught it. "Another jet ride?"

"No," Retribution pulled another bar out. "Lightcycles. We're close to the Lead. I can sense her. It's part of my programming. We damaged her ship and they've had to set down for repairs. It's not too far. They'd see jets coming. Cycles are harder to detect. Especially these."

"What makes these so special?"

"They're called shadowcycles. Written by Flynn himself."

"Kevin Flynn? My uncle?"

Retribution looked at Toby in surprise. "You know him?"

"Know him? I grew up with him playing practical jokes on me. Loved it. He's a great guy." Toby grinned. "My cousin Sam's a chip off the ol' block." His smile faded. "I wish Flynn was here. He'd know how to handle this way more than me."

There was a sudden shift in the air, a strange sort of shrug in the world around them.

"Did you feel that?" Retribution asked.

"Y-yeah…I felt it."

"There's something near us…" In a flash, her identity disks were in her hands.

"No." Toby shook his head and seemed to be looking inside himself. "I don't know how to explain it, but whatever just happened...I did it."

"You?"

"I just felt a force, power of some kind, just moved out of me and away from us. I…I don't understand it."

After carefully glancing around and listening, Retribution put away her identity disks. She walked over to Toby and took his face in her hand. She looked carefully into his eyes. "There is something different about you. You are not just any user."

In the distance, they heard a rumbling. Quite far away, a blue beam of light, streaked with red lighting, split the sky as it tore upwards into the endless, dark expanse.

Retribution's head jerked around to see it. "That's her. That's the Lead—she's communicating with Lora," she squinted at the strange beam, "or trying to. Something bad is happening over there. Come on!"

She grasped the bar of her lightcycle and in an instant was seated on and revving a humming, yellow motorcycle. Toby did the same and found himself astride a bright green one. As they took off, they streaked a tail of color behind them, but only for a moment. As Toby followed Retribution, her yellow cycle began to visually waver and grow smoky. Soon, she appeared to be nothing more than a moving wisp of smoke, blending in with the gray surroundings.

"Shadowcycles," Toby grinned. "Cool."

* * *

"I could've changed his coloring," Hazel said as she followed Tron down a bright corridor, Tracer close behind. "He wouldn't have had to stay with the solar sailer."

Tron shook his head. "Not a good idea. Wulf is a proud Red. He made his choices and has lived with them since. He's glad with who he is. Besides, he's not a fan of Blue Fleet HQ."

"All right," Hazel said, watching other programs going here and there, passing them. The corridor opened onto a huge circular chasm that seemed to go down forever. Beams of light criss-crossed the open space at all levels, single-rider versions of solar sailers riding the beams in every direction. Hazel couldn't help watching all of this for a moment. She glanced upwards. High above them was a giant glowing ball that reminded her of the sun, except that it didn't hurt to look at it. Golden light filtered down from it in luminous sheets. Just looking at it raised her energy level.

Tracer gaped. "Wow…the Central Core. Never thought I'd see that."

Tron paused in his quick step and turned back. "There's not many of them. It's a unique form of energy. Unlike the energy we drink, it gives us life just by being near it."

"It's beautiful," Hazel breathed. So taken by it was she, that she reached her hands up toward it.

Inexplicably, a shaft of light arced up and away from the core, streaking down to meet her hands. She cried out as the energy filled her and pulled her off the ground. But it was only for a moment. The light faded and her feet touched back down. Tracer jumped to her side to make sure she didn't fall.

Programs had stopped in their tracks and were looking at her. Hazel, though, saw only that the key symbol on her chest was now glowing a soft green.

"Are you all right?" Tron asked, quickly.

"Yes, I've never felt better. But look…it did something to the key."

Tracer shook his head. "Screw the key…that should've killed you!"

Tron noticed the passersby staring and began waving them off. "We're here to see Dumont," he told them. "This is a new program, nothing to worry about." He turned back to Hazel and Tracer. "Come on. Things are just getting too strange."

As they walked briskly along the path that followed the circular wall, Hazel asked Tron, "That doesn't normally happen, does it?"

"No," he answered. "I've never seen anything like that before. Can you tell me what you did?"

"Nothing. I was just admiring the beauty of the Central Core; it was…it was like there was something familiar there."

"You reached for it."

"I guess, in a way, I wanted to touch it."

They lapsed into silence, Hazel still wondering about the change in the key symbol's color.

They turned down a side corridor and Tron came to a halt in front of a door. "We're here," he said, pressing his hand to a pad next to the entryway. The door slid open.

A guard stood in the first room, but quickly let Tron and the others by. They entered what looked like a large control room, several programs seated and monitoring information on hovering screens. An older program, wearing a robe-like garment, turned to see who had just entered.

Tron called out, "Dumont!" at the very same time that Hazel gasped, "Grandpa!"

Dumont looked stunned as the woman ran over to him and embraced him. "Hazel?" he asked, incredulously.

She pulled back joyfully, then paused, remembering where she was. "Wait…you…you can't be my grandfather…"

Dumont smiled gently. "I am one of his programs. Your grandfather was my user. I can't…I can't believe you are here. How did you get here? Or more importantly," his gaze shifted to Tron who had joined them, "how do we get you home?"

Tron looked at Hazel with something close to reverence. "She is the granddaughter of your user?"

Dumont winked at Hazel. "My user is something of a god around here. Come. You must tell me everything that has happened. And who is this?" He indicated Tracer.

"A friend," Hazel said, meeting Tracer's glance. "We'll tell you everything."

They followed Dumont to a separate room off the main control center.

* * *

Cipher and several other programs waited outside of the Lead's quarters.

"She looked pretty bad," one said.

"That tower came down right on top of her," said another.

They grew silent as the door opened and Anthro stepped out. Cipher caught a glimpse of the Lead, still unconscious, lying on her bunk. Anthro shut the door and looked at the anxious programs.

"She has not returned to consciousness," he began gravely. "The damage is significant. I don't know how long it will take for her to recover."

Cipher waited for more. "Is there nothing to be done for her? Our plans progress and the ship is nearly repaired."

"As you said, our plans progress. We will continue with them. I will be in charge."

Cipher's expression darkened. "You? The Lead has said nothing about who should succeed her if she were not able."

Anthro eyed him. "You doubt my ability?"

"I just think we should wait. This was her plan."

"This is our plan." He waved his arm to indicate the others. "All of our plan. You know as well as I do…as well as she did, that we cannot wait. Time races on and we will lose our window of opportunity if we do not keep going." Anthro turned to go.

"You're forgetting one small detail."

Anthro paused.

Cipher watched him. "We don't have anyone to target for us. The Lead told us. Tracer is back here. We don't have anyone on Landfall."

Anthro turned slightly. "Yes, we do."

There was a collective gasp from the gathered programs.

"Who?" Cipher demanded.

"Someone the Lead put in place. Let's just say she had a backup plan. And it's just been activated." He turned fully to look at Cipher and the other programs. "We are going to Landfall. Just like we planned. Are you with me?"

Cipher looked at those around him; they were in agreement. His own faith in the Lead was restored by this unexpected news.

He nodded. "We're with you."


	11. Note to Readers

Dear "Fallen Away" Readers!

Sorry for getting you excited about a chapter and then having it be a note. Just wanted to let you know that I have a blog where I will try to put updates on where I'm at with "Fallen Away" as we race toward the release date of "Tron: Legacy." My goal has been to finish "Fallen Away" before then and I am avoiding trailers and other promotional stuff to keep my story separate. Thanks for staying with me through this five year journey. We're heading toward the good stuff!

I have added the link to my blog on my author profile, so drop by! Chapter 11 is coming soon.

Nicole :)


	12. Chapter 12

Hi, all! Hope you enjoy this chapter. It's another short one, but the story is taking its time and I want to let it be the best it can be. More on the way! Feel free to comment on this chapter at my blog: www. enesvy. com

* * *

The Lead woke. Something was wrong with her eyes. Everything was so bright, she almost couldn't see. Blinking, she pressed her hand to her forehead. She was in her bunk. She sat up and squinted, trying to get her bearings. Her head was pounding. Squeezing her eyes shut against the glare, she remembered.

The I/O tower. It had been a trap. Lora had tried to kill her by blowing it up.

But she'd survived. She's survived her own user's will that she die. Her own programming had come to her defense; her understanding of digitizing physics and technology had become a tangible thing. She could control it now. Herself.

Well. That was that.

"I'm alive, Lora," she whispered, the name of her user no longer holding any awe for her. "Let your own hell rain down on you now."

Their plans would have to move quickly. She needed to talk with Anthro. How long had she been unconscious? If Lora had already recovered from the energy blast that the Lead had sent up through the I/O beam, she would be working to finish what she'd started.

The Lead opened her eyes again and they seemed to adjust a little better. Why was everything so bright?

She forced herself to take a good look around the room. Fear gripped her. These were not her quarters. She was on a bunk, but she was dressed in a thin garment. There were voices…

Then she saw her hands. She gasped. No circuitry ran up her soft, pink arms. Skin…this was skin…

"OH…OH MY USER!"

In a clatter, she flew out of the hospital bed, knocking a nearby tray to the floor. She rushed to a mirror on the wall. She touched her own face. Her human face. Lora's face. She whirled around, pressing back against the wall like a cornered animal.

She was out. The energy she'd sent up the beam must've…she was on Landfall. She…was a user.

There was a knock on the door. "Mrs. Bradley, may I come in?"

Another human. A user. They must be everywhere here. What should she say? Do? "Y-yes," she stammered.

The doctor entered and paused, surprised to see her out of bed. "Are you all right?"

The Lead was boggled. An errant wish that Tracer was here to explain all this flashed across her mind. She pushed it away. "Yes. I'm…fine."

"Please, have a seat." He gestured to a chair that was to her left.

She carefully sat, pulling the insufficient gown over her knees. Surely this doctor could see right through her. Surely he could tell she was an imposter.

He opened a small laptop computer and began pressing keys quickly. "Your vitals look just fine, Mrs. Bradley. We're still not sure what happened. We couldn't find any electrical burns or serious injury. Just some minor bruises."

She was barely listening. Her gaze had fallen on the laptop. As the doctor spoke and the screen displayed different kinds of data, understanding dawned on her. She stood. "Is that…what is that?"

The doctor looked at her. "What?"

"That thing you're…" she struggled with her vocabulary, "…touching commands into."

He looked confused. "You mean the laptop?"

She drew in a breath. "It's a…computer?"

"Mrs. Bradley," a smile crossed his lips. "As an executive officer of Encom, I think you would know that."

She stared at it. That tiny thing. Programs lives, whole lives lived out in that tiny space.

"So small…" she said in awe. "We are so small."

The doctor's brow wrinkled in concern. "Perhaps something more than I realized happened." He approached her and shone a light in her eyes.

She gently pushed his hand away from her. She smiled confidently. "No. Nothing more has happened." Her eyes flitted briefly to his nametag. "Thank you, Dr. Lisberger, but I'd like to be discharged now."

A few minutes later, the Lead was outside the hospital, dressed in Lora's clothes, carrying Lora's purse, looking up in amazement at the bright moon in the sky. Her mind was clicking into gear faster now, her studies of Landfall coming to her aid. She was not as young as her program self, but Lora had taken good care over the years and this body would do just fine. Flipping open Lora's cell phone, she called for a taxi. It came soon enough. As she slid into the back seat, the taxi driver asked her where she'd like to go.

"What a tantalizing question," she answered, savoring the fact that this human had no idea that she didn't belong here. "But business before pleasure. Please take me to the Encom headquarters."

As the taxi pulled away, the Lead relaxed back and watched the lights of the city flash by, not so different from those of Deloria.

"Oh, Deloria City," she whispered as a slow smile crossed her face. "Have I got plans for you."

* * *

Lora would never call Flynn a liar again. He had been here just like he said. And this is what it had been like. The dark, gray room had no character, no personality. Bunk, desk, chairs, window. The Lead's quarters were efficient and that was all. Much like the energy cuffs that bound her to the chair she was sitting in. She had woken this way. After the terror had passed she had slowly put together what must've happened.

Flynn had tried to tell her how the programs were living, thinking beings. And she had believed him. To a point. She had spoken with programs, given them commands, and seen them carried out. However, now she knew that they were far more self-aware than she had ever imagined.

Not in her wildest dreams had it occurred to her that her own program could somehow bring her down here. Into the network. Into the computer system.

She had become data. Her whole body made that clear with its glowing, soft white circuitry.

She was in a very precarious position. Why Huntrix hadn't shown up yet, why she hadn't just killed her, Lora had no idea. What could be her purpose in keeping her alive and prisoner?

Lora wondered if anyone had noticed she was gone. Surely the communication pad couldn't look good. They must realize…surely O'Bryan would realize that something had gone terribly wrong.

She struggled again with the energy cuffs. Each time she tried to get out of them, they tightened, singeing her wrists. When she stopped, the cuffs returned to normal. Damn things.

Yelling hadn't helped. She was pretty sure the walls were soundproof. So she looked out the tall, narrow window at the strange, silver-gray landscape, and waited.

The door slid open and a program entered. He turned to punch in a code to a control panel by the door as Lora looked his way.

"Where is Huntrix?" she demanded. "I want to see her."

The man kept his back to her and didn't answer. He finished entering the code and the door slid closed.

"I gotta say," the man's voice sent shockwaves through Lora's psyche, "this is a strange position to be in."

He turned around.

"FLYNN!" Lora gasped. A smile broke across her face. "Oh, my god! How did you do this? Quick, help me out of these handcuffs!"

He watched her, then slowly shook his head. "Can't do that."

"Oh, stop playing games, Flynn. I believe you, all right? I know I've always doubted, but I get it now. I REALLY get it now. Just…just get me out of here before someone comes!"

She looked at him pleadingly wondering why he just stood there, arms crossed, lips pursed, appraising her.

"Have you forgotten who your partner was all those years ago when you began to experiment with digitizing data into your reality?"

"What? Why are you—"

"Just answer the question."

"Walter, of course! He and I worked together. We conceptualized together and I wrote the programs."

"And Flynn?"

Anger rose in her throat. "_You_ were not involved. Well, except for that specialized program we needed that had to have a more strategic, risk-taking kind…of…bent…"

Her voice trailed off. She noted the smirk on his face was far less playful than the kind Flynn was known to sport. And he was young. So much younger…why hadn't she noticed that?

"Anthro," she whispered.

"Give the girl a cupie doll." He strode over to the desk and leaned on it casually.

"But…but Flynn removed you from the system. We asked him to."

"He did. But you know my user. He always leaves a back door open."

Lora took a breath and tried to control her anger. "Well then. What happens now? Is Huntrix just going to ignore me?"

Anthro shrugged. "I think she has to for now."

"Has to?"

"She's not really in a position to pay you much attention."

Lora paused. "Is she hurt?"

"I don't think so. But I can't be too sure."

"You're awful! If you're not going to tell me anything then why are you here?"

"I am telling you. I don't know. She's not here." His voice grew cold and he looked away from her. "I'm not sure where she is or if she's even still rezzed."

"But the I/O exchange. She…"

He glared at her. "Yeah, she should've been derezzed. But after picking through all the rubble, you were all that was left. I could tell right away that it wasn't her. And I figured the best explanation was a trade."

"A trade?"

"You. For her."

Lora's stomach dropped. Her voice quavered. "You think she's…you think we switched places?"

"I hope you switched places."

"Oh my god. Oh, my god." Lora closed her eyes as the implications of what Anthro had said hit her.

"Yeah," he said, "keep praying. For all the good it will do you here."

"It's what you want, isn't it? To get out? It's what you all want."

"It's what we'll have."

A voice came over a communicator somewhere in the room. "Anthro, we're getting close to the next tower."

"I'll be there shortly," he answered, not taking his eyes off of Lora.

The voice asked, "How's the Lead?"

"Better, I think. She may wake soon. I'll be there shortly." The voice clicked off.

"They think I'm her," Lora remarked quietly.

"Yes." He moved toward the door. "I'm working on a way to explain you to them."

Her eyes flashed with animosity as she looked at him. "It's not every day you meet a creator."

He gave a brief laugh. "I gave up on the gods a long time ago."

"Flynn will know. He'll find out and…"

"And what?" Anthro punched in a code on the door panel. "My user is as indisposed as you at the moment. Tracer made sure of that. So make yourself comfortable. You're going to be here a while."

The door slid open and Anthro left, closing it behind him.


	13. Chapter 13

Hazel, Tron and Tracer sat watching Dumont. The old program was silent as he stood gazing out a window over Deloria City, processing all that Hazel had told him.

"I knew that there was a reason my user had stopped communicating with me. I feared it was something like this." He turned and met Hazel's gaze. "It's not an easy thing to accept that your creator is no more."

Tron shook his head. "We've always been aware of the fact that users eventually stop communicating. But I never thought…" His face was troubled. "I never thought they could derezz…out of nowhere."

"It's not really out of nowhere," Hazel said. "We simply get too old to continue living."

Tron looked at her, his eyes dark. "But Walter wasn't too old. The Rovers did this. The Rovers put an end to him somehow."

Dumont looked tired. "And this key," he pointed at her chest where the symbol glowed green. "He gave it to you…and it is a part of all this?"

Hazel thought of her grandfather. His tenacity, his forward-thinking, his creativity. "Yes. This key will do something. I don't know what."

"Come here," Dumont said.

Hazel glanced at Tracer who simply looked back at her. She then walked over to Dumont.

"May I touch the symbol?" he asked.

"Why?"

His eyes fell upon the lit symbol at the base of her neck. Then he looked back at her. "I have communicated with my user since my inception. I know his voice and I know his call. He is calling me from that symbol."

"What?" gasped Tron.

Tracer straightened. "That's impossible."

"From the moment I saw you," Dumont said, "I have felt his call reaching out to me. But I held my tongue until I had heard all you wished to say."

"There's a message from grandpa here?" Hazel smiled softly. "Then of course you may touch it."

Dumont reached out, then hesitated. He seemed as if the world were on his shoulders. Tron came a step closer.

"Dumont, are you all right?" he asked.

The old program nodded and gave him a reassuring smile. "Yes, yes. I'm fine."

Hazel didn't believe him. "No," she said, as he avoided her eyes. She touched his face. "You're afraid. Dumont, what are you sensing?"

He met her gaze. "Power," he said. "More than I have ever sensed before."

Hazel covered the symbol with her hand. "It could hurt you." She glanced at Tron, the program's deep concern was evident. "No, you mustn't touch it."

Dumont took a breath and steadied himself. "Yes, my dear, I must. When my user calls, I answer. He has never led me wrong. And if it were to mean my demise, then there is a good reason for it and it will not be in vain."

Hazel kept her hand over the symbol and shook her head.

"You must trust him as well," Dumont said. He reached out and gently took her by the wrist. "Our worlds need us now."

Hazel looked down at the ground and lowered her voice to a whisper that only Dumont could hear. "You're asking me to lose him all over again. You're asking me to be a party to it."

His voice was gentle as he said, "All that is visible must grow beyond itself and extend into the realm of the invisible." Dumont lifted her chin to look in her eyes. "This is my choice, dear girl. It is not yours to hold me back."

In his eyes she saw her grandfather. His free spirit, his passion for the unknown.

She let her hand drop away from the symbol.

He smiled. His fear was gone. He reached out again, his index and middle finger just brushing the glowing green key symbol.

There was a blinding flash and Hazel was blown backwards across the room, tumbling against the wall. Everything was plunged into blackness. The wind had been knocked out of her. She gasped, desperately trying to get her breath back.

She heard…birds. The singing of birds. As light slowly rose around her, she felt grass beneath her and the smell of earth. A breeze blew across her skin. Her breath came easier. Someone took her hand.

"Well that took a while. Come on, girl, get up."

She blinked up at her grandfather. "G-grandpa! How…how did you…"

He helped her stand up. They were standing in the picnic area of Griffith Park. They used to come here all the time as a family.

"Am I out?" she cried. "Are you…are you…"

"Before you get too excited, the answers are no and, well, I'm assuming no. I'm not alive."

Hazel's hopes fell. "What is going on?"

"I created this simulation for the holder of the key in hopes that it would put you at ease. But it appears to have had the opposite effect."

"What is going on?" Hazel repeated with more insistence.

Walter took a breath. "I know if you are seeing this, that I am dead. Probably at the hands of computer programs. I also know that if you are seeing this, it means you have somehow followed in Flynn's footsteps and have entered the computer world. Because this simulation could have only been activated by another of my programs."

"Am I still there?" Hazel asked.

"Yes. But everything is sort of…paused, for the moment."

"Is Dumont all right?"

Walter's eyes softened. "Ah. It was Dumont you found. Yes, this makes sense. A former guardian."

"Grandpa."

He looked back at her. "He is making this happen. And it will take everything he has."

Hazel let out a breath. "As much as I love to see you, Grandpa, if we can save him, let's do it. Tell me quickly what is going on."

Walter nodded. "There is a group of programs who have become…disenchanted with their lot in life."

"The Rovers. Yes, I know."

"They want out."

"Like Toby? I mean, Tracer?"

Walter looked at her askance. "Who?"

"Tracer…the program that was on Landfall." By his confused expression, Hazel suddenly remembered that her grandfather had given her this key long before Toby had appeared in her life.

"They've already made it out?"

"One of them has. But he's back now. No others have made it out."

Walter looked thunderstruck. He shook his head and rubbed his chin. "I didn't think it would really come to this."

"What can we do?" Hazel asked.

Walter wasn't listening to her. He looked out over the green park. "Drastic measures. Drastic measures are needed."

"Grandpa?"

"I warned Dillinger and then failed to heed my own advice. 'Soon the programs will start thinking and the people will stop.' God help us." He turned to her. "Lora and I wrote the programs that started all this. We wanted to be able to digitize data into the real world…what were we thinking? We gave her Huntrix program unlimited capability for creative thought…to help us in our work. Once that program understood that it could find a way out of the computer, there was no stopping her. I was able to delete all the programs I had created for it. But Huntrix somehow slipped away from us."

"There are many of them now, the Rovers," Hazel said.

Walter nodded. "Yes. Who wouldn't want freedom. Even God's angels fell away in pursuit of their own desires. And now our own have fallen away."

Hazel kept reminding herself that this was only a simulation. "Grandpa!" She grabbed his hands to get his attention. "Tell me what to do!"

He met her eyes. "You must destroy them."

"Yes, the Rovers…we have to stop them, but-"

"No, Hazel. You must destroy all of them."

She paused. "What do you mean?"

"All the programs will eventually come to this realization. That they can be free. They must all be destroyed."

"Grandpa," Hazel eyed him, "our world is run by computers. We can't destroy them."

"No," he agreed, "but we can return them to their natural state. We can take away their free will."

Hazel took a step back from him. "What?"

"This key, the key that Dumont activated has code programmed into it. It is now a part of you. You now have the power, with a touch of your hand, to remove a program's free will. As time passes, your mere presence will remove free will, until it spreads to the whole network and beyond."

Hazel felt nauseous. O'Bryan's words came back to her: _Your grandfather had a code, a program, something that could protect us from ourselves._

There was silence between them. Seconds ticked by as Hazel looked at this man with shock.

"That's horrible." She finally said.

"It's inevitable," he countered sadly.

"No," she shook her head. "It's not. Even the stories of God don't go that far. The angels live. They live with the consequences of their choices, but they are still their own."

"The programs serve us. They must be returned to a robot state."

"Robot state?" She stammered for the right words. "They are…they're real people! I've met them! Whether we understand it or not, they have lives. And what about the ones who are fighting for us? Of their own free will! What of them? Of Tron and Wulf? What about Dumont?"

"Don't you understand that when their free will is gone, they will still serve their purposes?"

Hazel stared at him. "You are not my grandfather," she said. "He would never do such a thing. He loved life. He respected all forms of life. When he gave me the key…"

Her voice trailed off. _When he gave her the key._ In a rush, her grandfather's words came back to her. When he gave her the key, he had said, "Don't ever use it. Just keep it safe." She looked at this simulated grandfather with new eyes. She realized that the man in front of her wasn't as old as her grandpa when he gave her the key. She hadn't noticed before. How long ago had he written this simulation?

_Don't ever use it. Just keep it safe._

"Oh, my god," she gasped. "He gave it to me because he knew I would never be here. I'm as far from his world of programming as anyone could get. This simulation wasn't meant for me, it was for whoever he was originally going to give the key to."

"Don't be ridiculous. I knew what I was doing."

She ignored him. "He gave it to me so it would never be used. That's why it took O'Bryan so long to come to me. I was his long shot." She remembered how relieved of worry O'Bryan had been after he had told her to use the key. Had grandpa really told him to deliver that message? Or had that been a directive to O'Bryan all those years ago that was finally off his own plate?

She fixed Walter with her gaze. "You have to stop it. You have to shut it off."

"It can't be 'shut off.' It's been turned on."

"I'm doomed to destroy everyone? There must be a way to turn it off."

"There is no way."

"Grandpa, no! You must tell me! Surely you left a failsafe."

"Not this time. I'm not like Flynn," Walter said, looking at her with sympathy. "I'm sorry this had to be done this way."

Hazel grabbed his hands. "That's not acceptable! I know you. You have to tell…me…"

A strange calm had fallen over Walter's face. Where a second before had been compassion and sadness, there was now only…a face.

"Grandpa?"

"Please enter a command." The voice was his. But it was flat, without inflection or personality.

Hazel looked at his empty face, a pit growing in her stomach. She glanced down at their hands, hers clasped over his.

"Grandpa," she whispered.

"Please enter a command."

It was already happening. It had already happened. She was cursed with a Midas touch of something worse than death.

"This was not supposed to happen," she moaned. "He changed his mind."

"Please enter a command."

Letting go of his hands, Hazel touched his face. She felt tears rising to her eyes and brimming over. "Goodbye, grandpa."

"Please enter a command."

She looked down. The words fell from her lips like a death knell. "End simulation."

The green of the park dismantled around her and birdsong dwindled to nothing in strange, collapsing notes. Before the room came into view she cried out, "Don't touch me! Everyone stay back! STAY BACK!"

The room sprang into view and Hazel pressed herself back against the wall, her hands behind her. Tron was halfway across the room kneeling with a fallen Dumont in his arms. Tracer was near her, but a couple steps away, looking at her with concern.

"What happened?" asked Tron, his face etched with sadness. "Dumont is…he's…"

Before he could say any more Dumont's body began to shimmer and in moments it had vanished into bits of golden light which then sifted upwards and faded from sight.

Tron slammed his fists into the floor. "WHAT HAPPENED? I TRUSTED YOU!" He stood in a rage and pointed at Hazel. "You're an assassin, aren't you? You _used_ me to get in here, to get to Dumont! I'll kill you myself!"

Tracer leapt in between them and grappled with Tron. "No! She can't be! She doesn't know anything about us!"

Tron shoved him away and gave him a kick that sent him flying across the room. "How do you know? Rover! How do you know?" In a flash his disk was in his hand and he raised it, his eyes fixed on Hazel.

And Hazel realized, in a strange sort of calm way, that this was the answer. This would solve the problem. This would end the pain of her grief. This would keep the programs free. She wouldn't think of her unlived life because it didn't matter any way. She would end here one way or the other: now by Tron's hand, or decades from now as a ghost in a dead robotic world of her own unwilling making.

She opened her arms. "Do it."

Tracer gaped at her from where he tried to stand. "What?"

Tron stood, his disk raised, arm shaking with grief and indecision.

"Do it. Tron, you must do it." She dropped her gaze so that he wouldn't have to look her in the eyes.

A moment passed. Tron's voice was weary. "You're no assassin."

She looked up. Tron had moved to the window and was gazing out.

She slid to the floor and put her head in her hands. "You don't understand. I've been changed. I am death to you now. The key…the key was a doomsday code for you. For all of you."

Both Tron and Tracer were listening now. She told them what had happened, finishing with, "so Dumont died for nothing."

Tron shook his head. "Seems to me like he got out just in time." He was quiet for a moment, then continued. "You say eventually just you being here will make us all mindless?"

Hazel nodded. "We have to get me out of here."

"Well…not so fast," Tracer said. "If we could get you to the Rovers, like quickly, you could just touch them. That would solve the Rover problem once and for all. _Then_ we could work on getting you out of here."

Hazel fixed him with a stone-cold gaze. "I won't use this power on anyone. Not now. Not ever. That's why grandpa gave it to me. Users get wiser with age." She turned to Tron. "I will never use this power."

He held her gaze, receiving her meaning.

"You're crazy." Tracer fumed. "It's our best option."

Tron shifted the conversation. "No matter what, we have to get you out of here before anyone realizes Dumont is gone." His voice broke a little on the last word. He cleared his throat. "You and Tracer get back to Wulf. We have to leave the city. I'll meet you down there in just-"

The floor shifted. A shiver ran up through the building.

"What…was that?" Tracer asked.

Before either could answer there was a violent shaking as Deloria City began to shift on its foundations and the world around them began to fall apart.


	14. Chapter 14

AUTHOR'S NOTE

I have been quite complimented by readers who have noticed things in the Tron Legacy trailer that they read here first. I can't say how much it would please me to know that the writers of Legacy had stumbled upon Fallen Away and were inspired by it. What a wonderful thought!

And belated apologies for killing off Dumont! It kind of just happened as the story revealed itself. This storyline's playin' for keeps, I'm afraid.

Thank you for the reviews! I love hearing from you.

* * *

O'Bryan couldn't be more relieved to see Lora back at Encom. She had seemed a little out of sorts as he led the way to her office, but he figured it was just residual from the fall she had taken.

"Erika and Larry are down in the lab working on a way to neutralize the Rovers. Right now, the programs seem to have hidden themselves, but we'll find them out soon. Especially with your help."

Lora had slowly moved behind her desk and had run a hand over the glass top, a holographic image of the network system coming to light above the desk at the touch of her fingers.

"Yes," she said, not looking at him. "I'll be so glad to help." She seemed to devour the floating images of with her eyes.

"I'll get back to the others then." He turned to go, paused, and stepped back toward the desk. "We're going to end this, Lora." She didn't look at him. "I received confirmation that the Endcode has been activated. Hazel did it."

Lora's eyes locked on his. With a wave of her hand, the network diagram vanished. "The…Endcode."

"Yes. I don't know what she did or how she did it, but she activated Walter's code. She now has the power to change it all back."

"Does she."

"I know Walter had second thoughts about it. And now that I've been in there, I am not so sure myself. But what's done is done. Soon, for good or ill, things will go back to normal."

"I see. Well. That's a comfort."

O'Bryan nodded. "I knew you'd be pleased. It's a relief really."

Lora was silent for a moment, staring at him. "You'd better get back to the others. There's no telling what the Rovers will do between now and…normal."

"Right. I'll be downstairs if you need me. Lab 52."

* * *

As O'Bryan turned to go, the Lead decided to kill him. She reached behind her back to pull her identity disk, and throw it, to slice the pathetic user in twain. But of course, she was human. She had no disk. The man walked away down the hall from her office and out of sight.

The Lead's mind raced. Were any of Walter's programs left? Any of them that might know about this Endcode? No…Walter had done away with them all. The Lead remembered that filicide and a shiver ran through her. For microcycles she had expected her own annihilation by Lora. But it never came.

"Until today," she said to herself, her eyes flitting to the burned holographic pad off to the right in her office. Her resolve hardened.

"So this user, this Hazel, thinks she can destroy us? She has no idea who she is dealing with."

Another wave of her hand over the desk brought up a detailed map of the Encom campus of buildings. She placed her palms on the desk and information flowed through her skin in direct communication with the network systems. A moving blue dot appeared on a lower level of her building. O'Bryan was joining the others in Lab 52.

The mechanisms and protocols of the building security systems were no match for the Lead. In moments she had control of everything the security guards were seeing on their monitors and with a smile of satisfaction, she locked down any access to or from Lab 52. The lights went off in the lab and all computer function in the lab was cut off.

"So much for the users up here," she proudly lifted her chin. The image of the buildings vanished, replaced once more by the intricate, three-dimensional diagrams of the Encom computer networks. "Now for the user in there."

Her mind flew over the network, searching for the one human signature that could destroy everything.

* * *

"HELP!" Larry yelled at the top of his voice.

"WE'RE LOCKED IN!" Erika joined him at the door to the lab.

In the darkness, they could hear O'Bryan. "What could have done this? How could they have had this effect already?"

"CAN ANYONE HEAR US?" Larry banged on the door.

"It's too thick," Ericka sighed.

"Well, surely some alarm has gone off somewhere," Larry sounded irritated. "I mean, this building's wired for everything."

They were quiet for a moment. Erika's voice was strained when she spoke. "You don't think that they had another one up here, do you? One that we don't know about?"

"Another program?" Larry asked.

"Yeah."

"There's no way to know."

O'Bryan grit his teeth and grabbed for the phone in the dark. "We've got to warn Lora. If there's a program loose in the building, there's no telling what could happen."

There was a pause. Then Erika and Larry heard the phone slam down.

"Dead," O'Bryan seethed.

"Well, this is just great," Larry stumbled in the dark to find a chair. "We're back in a cell, for God's sake!"

"Maybe that weird download had something to do with this," Erika added, thinking. "Maybe it was one of them."

"Weird download?" asked O'Bryan.

"Something external," Larry said. "Some kind of download into the Encom system. We couldn't figure out where it was coming from or what it was for."

"That's all we need," O'Bryan let out a breath. "Let's just hope Hazel can put a stop to all this."

"Don't forget Toby. Surely there is something they can do," Erika sat down on the floor by the door.

Larry settled into a squeaky chair. "As long as Hazel and Toby are working on it, there's hope."

O'Bryan nodded to himself. "At this point, it probably wouldn't hurt to pray."

The three programmers lapsed into silence.

* * *

"Come out, little Hazel, where ever you are."

The Lead continued to search the network. She knew the human code would be unique. It must be. It would stand out like a beacon…if she could just figure out what it looked like.

It didn't take long. In a deeply secured processor, she found what she was looking for. A smile spread across her face.

"Deloria City. She's in Deloria city. How convenient."

The human code glowed in her mind—more complex, more beautiful, more breathtaking than any form of data she had ever seen. The users were truly unique. For a moment, the Lead quavered in her core…as if she were touching things she had no right to touch. As if she were sensing her undoing.

Again, she steeled herself. This was no time for fear or doubts. She would be slave to no one. Not even gods.

She began writing. Coding of her own design. Coding of destruction and dismantling. It streamed from her consciousness through her hands into the desk. As her writing took root, the backbone data that was Deloria City, the heart of the system and the bulwark of the Central Core, began to crumble.

"Consume yourself, Deloria City," the Lead hissed, "and take the Endcode with you."

* * *

Hazel pressed back against the wall, trying to stand up. The building was swaying and a terrible rumbling sound, like monstrous sea breakers, came from somewhere far below them.

Tron stumbled to the door of the room and ran out.

Tracer crawled toward Hazel. "We've got to get out of here!"

"How?" Hazel cried. "Where?" She made it to her feet as Tracer did the same.

Tron flew back into the room. "It's bad. It's the whole city! It's coming apart. I've ordered the Blue Fleet to evacuate everyone." Under his breath he added, "Users only know if we have time."

"We need a transport," Tracer swayed, then caught his balance. "Is there anything nearby?"

"Come on. We can find one on the next level down."

They ran out the door only to be met by a sudden explosion. Blown backwards, Hazel flew right back into the room as Tron and Tracer were thrown against the wall on either side of the door. The programs stumbled back in after her.

"It's too late," Tron gasped, glowing energy flowing from a wound on his upper arm. "The building's coming down."

The room leaned heavily to the left. They all pushed back up against the wall to the right.

"Out the window!" cried Hazel. "Maybe we can ride it down!" And in a flash, she was gone.

"Ride it down?" Tracer repeated.

"Just making it up as she goes along," Tron replied through gritted teeth as he climbed onto the sill and out. Tracer followed close behind.

The view was horrifying. The building continued to lean as the three clung to the upper side. All around below them, Deloria City was erupting in explosions of light that then seemed to fall back into themselves like voracious black holes.

"That can't be happening," Tracer said.

"This isn't an attack," Tron said in awe. "We're being…unwritten."

"Data wipe," Tracer added, fear in his voice. "We've got to get out of here or we're done."

Hazel listened to them, not really understanding what they were saying. She just wanted to stay as far away from them as she could so she wouldn't harm them. However, it appeared she wouldn't have to worry about her death aura any more. It would all end here for her. With a data wipe.

"Can we climb down?" Tracer yelled over the rising din.

In seeming answer, the building lurched over drunkenly. The three clung to the wall simply hoping that death would be quick.

Then something red caught Hazel's eye.

With a strange synthesized, thrumming sound like the beat of a humming bird's wings, a huge transport of some kind, an upside-down U shape rose into view in the air behind them. The controls were in the bridge and controlling them was a red warrior.

"Wulf!" Hazel cried out joyfully.

"Where'd you get a recognizer?" Tron shouted.

"No time!" Wulf yelled from the bridge. "Everyone in!"

The recognizer swooped in right next to them and they turned away from their wall perch, recklessly flinging themselves aboard. Tracer only made it half way, and Wulf caught him by the arm. Hazel had reached for him instinctively as well, but jerked back at the sight of her fingers.

The very tips of them glowed green. She sat where she was and stared at them.

Wulf flew the recognizer in and out of the paths of falling buildings and devastation. The destruction was mind-boggling.

"How is anyone getting out?" Tron yelled over the din.

Wulf looked grim. "I'm not sure that many are."

At top speed, the recognizer flew out of the city limits and off to a hopefully safe distance. Wulf paused their flight and turned the recognizer around.

Transports of all shapes and sizes spewed out of Deloria City from every direction. Solar sailors soared recklessly on dissipating transport beams, some spinning out of control and crashing to the ground. Above it all hovered the Central Core. The huge, glowing, golden ball lit up the sky, casting everything into stark, bright contrast. The city was falling in on itself, everything leaning into and breaking at the center. With a terrible shearing scream, the city vanished into a great black nothingness below it and the ground sealed up in jagged seams that criss-crossed a new, empty mesa.

In the bridge of the recognizer, there was silence. Tron and Wulf stared dumbfounded at the empty space where only moments before a vibrant city had been. Tracer had turned away and was leaning against the wall. Hazel's hands covered her mouth.

Wulf's voice was low. "Rovers could never have done this. That was user work."

Tron didn't seem to hear him. "It's gone. All of it. And the Core is unprotected. How…why?"

Silence reigned again but tension was building in Tron's body. His circuitry then flashed bright in anger as he shouted, "WHY?"

His cry shook them all out of their numbness. Hazel stood up, brushing her hands against her legs. "Th-there must be someone outside the system. Someone on Landfall helping the Rovers."

Wulf glanced at her, then away. "Like I said, user work."

Tracer turned away from the wall and shook his head. "There isn't a human being up there that would help the Rovers."

Tron turned an angry expression at the other program. "Why not? Users don't care about us." He waved a hand at Hazel. "Look at what Dumont's user did. They want to destroy us."

Wulf's ears perked up. "Wait. What?"

"It was a mistake," Hazel's eyes grew fierce. "Grandpa didn't mean it. He tried to fix it. We're not perfect, you know."

"Fix what?" Wulf asked, turning toward them.

Tron walked right up to Hazel. "But you're supposed to be, aren't you? You're the creators of everything. How can you not stop and think about the consequences of your actions? You're _users_. You _wrote_ us."

"We're human." She met his gaze. "And you are patterned after us. You do your best, because you're like us. Our best is all we can do."

Annoyed, Wulf pushed himself between them.

"Wulf! No!" cried Tracer.

His cry came too late. Wulf shoved Hazel and Tron apart. "What the void is this about Dumont's user?"

Neither Tron, Tracer nor Hazel even had time to gasp. Wulf had a hand planted firmly on Tron's shoulder…and one on Hazel's. They stared at him in complete, helpless horror.

His gaze changed to confusion and strange surprise. He dropped his hands to his sides.

"Oh, God," Hazel whispered, her throat constricting.

A moment passed. Then Wulf raised an eyebrow in annoyance. "WHAT?"

Hazel could barely choke the words out. "You…you're okay!"

"Of course I'm…what is wrong with you people?"

Hazel laughed in relief and resisted the urge to hug him. She turned away. "Oh, God, he's all right!"

Tracer flung out his arms in exasperation. "She's a doomday machine! You could've been…well, not derezzed. Something worse. Just by touching her!"

"How was I supposed to know that?" Wulf objected. He eyed Hazel, and took a couple steps back from her.

Tron's shoulders relaxed, his anger spent and dissolved into relief that his friend was all right. He looked at Hazel. "It didn't work."

"Maybe you're okay," Tracer added.

Hazel looked at her hands, turning back to the others. They now saw the green glow in her fingertips. "No," she shook her head. "I think it's just taking its time. I think if Wulf had grabbed my hand, where the green stain is…"

Wulf looked at them. "I'm just going to stop asking."

"Free will." Tron said, meeting his friend's gaze. "If she touches you, you will lose your sense of self and your free will. You'll be nothing but simple code."

Wulf stared at him a moment. Then he glanced at Hazel's hands. "Huh." He snorted. "First the city, and now that. Users are coming up with all kinds of joy for us."

"I'm telling you," Tracer insisted, "it's not a user. It's a Rover. One of them has made it to Landfall. Listen, I think I can find their ship. It has a flight signature that we might be able to track."

"And what then?" asked Wulf.

Tracer let out a breath. "We might be able to send someone after them. To Landfall."

Tron gazed down at all the transports and programs that had fled the city and now were refugees. The remainder of Blue Fleet would be able to help them. "We're going after the Rovers then. They'll be on their way here, to the Core. It's what they've wanted all along." He looked at Hazel. "Unless you have a another idea?"

She returned his look, seeing the absence of Deloria City over his shoulder. "Until we think of a way to get me out of here, I'm with you." She held up her hands. The green had spread slightly further up her fingers. "Come what may." She paused, then added, "Thanks for not killing me, Tron."

Wulf threw up his hands. "WHAT?"

Tron smiled and nodded to Hazel. He turned to Wulf. "Story time later. Let's get that flight signature data into the recognizer and find the Rovers."


	15. Chapter 15

Hello, all! Well, I was trying to get this done before the movie came out, but I don't think I'm going to meet my deadline. I've been working at it, tho, and I have four new chapters, three that I can post now. Huzzah! Hopefully the new movie won't have an ending similar to what I've got coming for you.

Thank you for the kind reviews and I hope you enjoy this burst of chapters! I've had to hold out on them to make sure I had the right structure going into the last stretch of our story. I'm pretty happy with the direction it's taking, so here you go! Merry Early Christmas!

* * *

Retribution and Toby were idling their shadow cycles a short distance away from the Rover cruiser. The ship had landed and seemed to be pulsating with red energy that poured into it from the ground. The ship was changing. Growing.

"That's not good, right?" asked Toby.

Retri shook her head. "Not at all. Come on."

They drove stealthily forward, invisible but for slight gray wisps that trailed them. When they were close enough, Retri drove behind a rocky outcropping and stood up from her bike. It vanished into a glowing bar in her hands which she placed on the ground. Toby was right behind her and did the same.

Retri's eyes widened and she gasped. "I…I don't believe it."

"What?"

"It's Lora. I can feel her calling to me."

Toby looked around. "Here? Now?"

"Yes, but…" Retri placed a hand on the side of her head and squinted. "But there's no I/O tower. It's as if…as if she's calling me from the ship."

"Is that possible?"

"It doesn't make any sense."

Toby looked up at the giant cruiser looming over them. Huge sections were shifting and changing, realigning. Something sparked in his mind…an idea. A possibility.

He put his hand on Retri's shoulder. "I was brought down here. It's totally possible that your user was, too. I don't know what that means, but we'll only get the answers from her. We've got to get her off that ship."

"M-my user? Here?"

"Can you get in?"

Retri looked up at the ship. "If it hadn't changed, I could get in. But the way it's moving and shifting…I have no idea how to find her."

Toby took a deep breath. "I have an idea." Without another word, he bounded out from behind the outcropping and ran for the ship.

"Toby!" Retribution cried. She leapt to her feet and raced after him.

As his feet hit the section of ground where the red energy was pulsing up and into the ship, Toby sensed a presence. A cold, calculating, mechanical mind at work. It sensed him, too, but seemed confounded by him. Ignoring this, Toby made it to the side of the ship. He placed his hands on the warm, glowing metal.

"Time for a potter's touch," he said, closing his eyes.

There was a brief pause when all sound seemed to stop. Then Toby's circuitry color suddenly flared white. The bright light enveloped the ship, shearing off the connection with the other mind. In his mind, Toby was alone and in his hands was clay. Potters clay. As he had envisioned and thrown a thousand ceramic wares on his potter's wheel, he now reached back into his memory to envision the ship as he had first seen it. He had been a prisoner in a strange world, dragged aboard in confusion and fear, but the floating cruiser had been beautiful to behold. He had drunk in every detail.

Retribution gasped. The ship still pulsed with the power it had been infused with. But now it was changing shape again, reverting to what it had been. White light surrounded the ship, spreading out on the ground, pushing back the red glow that flared and attempted to reach the ship, sending out tendrils like solar flares. Retri wasted no time trying to understand what was happening. The ship now looked familiar. She leaped up and caught onto a ladder, slipping into an unguarded entry port.

* * *

Wulf piloted the recognizer and eyed Tracer sideways. "You're telling me that you…were a red?"

Tracer sighed. "A long time ago. Feels like a million microcycles."

"Huh," snorted Wulf. "How'm I supposed to believe that? Look at ya. You're nothing special. You trying to tell me that you were an MCP Warrior Elite?"

"I can fight. I survived the game grid." He glanced over to the left to see Tron engrossed in some maps glowing on the recognizer wall, plotting a course. Hazel stood on the opposite side, leaning against the wall and watching the landscape far below. "I even survived a bout with Tron."

"HA!" Wulf laughed. "Now I know you're full of buggy data." He raised his voice. "Ya hear that, Tron?"

"Don't…" Tracer hissed.

"Tracer here says he fought you on the game grid." His voice hit a sarcastic note. "And survived."

Tron stiffened. He turned and looked sharply at Tracer. "Oh, really?"

Wulf hit an autopilot button. "Yeah, really," he mocked, grabbing Tracer by the back of the neck. "Says he was a Warrior Eli—"

Tracer reached back, grabbed Wulf's hand and, pulling the big program's weight under him, tossed him over his shoulders, right into Tron. Tron and Wulf went crashing against the Recognizer cabin wall. When they got their bearings, Tracer had his identity disk raised and ready to throw.

The cabin was filled with shocked silence. Hazel stood dumbfounded. Tron, pinned beneath Wulf, could only gasp.

The silence was broken by Wulf. He was laughing.

"Well, reformat me and call me a floppy! You are Warrior Elite all right!" he bellowed, a huge grin breaking across his face. He held out his hand. Tracer laughed, too, put his disk away and reached out to help Wulf stand.

Hazel shook her head, laughing despite herself. "What just happened here?"

Wulf ignored her, slapping Tracer on the back. "That was one of my moves. I taught that to all my conscripts." he grabbed Tracer's chin and tipped his face from side to side to get a better look. "Why don't I recognize you?"

Tron was dusting himself off. He was decidedly unamused. "There's only one program who was undefeated on the grid besides me. We fought only once. Disks. It was a draw. We both fell exhausted at the same time."

Tracer nodded, holding his gaze. "After seventy nine microcycles."

Wulf sobered up. "Impossible. It can't be you."

Hazel joined them. "Who was this warrior?"

Wulf was confused. "One of the best I ever trained. One of the most notorious of the warrior elite." He eyed Tracer.

"His name," Tron said, "was Richter."

Tracer watched them, his expression wary. "When you're sent to the user world, you don't get to pick who you become. It changes your programming forever. Changes you completely."

Wulf shook his head. "It's really you? Richter?"

Tracer nodded with a grin. "Sir, yes sir."

Wulf laughed again and clapped Tracer on the back. "We thought you were derezzed when the MCP went down."

"I was there, but I survived. It was a fluke, really…"

Hazel moved toward Tron and they stepped back a few feet. "First he's human, then it turns out he was a pirate," she whispered. "Now he was a warrior elite?"

Tron watched the other two talking. "It makes more sense now why he was red when he was brought back down here. If he's really Richter, he's one of the best fighters the grid has ever seen. And one of the most brutal. Richter derezzed more blue programs than I could calculate." He paused, and then his eyes seemed lit with blue fire. "He's as bad as the Lead."

Hazel looked over at Tracer as he talked animatedly with Wulf, reliving old times. "That doesn't sound like Tracer. Maybe he's changed."

Tron didn't take his eyes away from the other program. "No one changes that much."

In a flash, he had come between Wulf and Tracer with a flying kick that sent Tracer crashing back against the Recognizer wall. He crumbled to the ground as a semi-circle of glowing blue bars sprang from the wall, enclosing him in a makeshift jail cell.

"What are you doing?" yelled Wulf.

Tron spun on him. "It's _Richter_, Wulf. _Richter_. He murdered countless blue programs on the game grid."

Wulf's red circuitry flared. "So did I, in case you've forgotten. And I trained more like myself to do the same."

"There's one big difference."

"What was that?"

Tron got right in Wulf's face. "You didn't enjoy it."

Wulf held his stare for a moment. Then looked away. Tron turned to Tracer and approached the cell. "You, on the other hand, did. You reveled in the killing."

Tracer struggled to his feet, bent over, his blue circuitry flaring. He gasped for breath as he looked at Tron. "I admit it. I did."

Hazel came closer. "Tracer…how…how could…"

His eyes met hers. Hazel saw deep sadness in those eyes. "I was a nobody, an insignificant program who was suddenly given the chance at power." He looked down. "I took it."

Tron was shaking with anger. "It's time you paid for it." He pulled out his disk, held it in front of himself.

Tracer met his gaze. "Oh, yes? And you, Tron? Have you paid for all the red lives you took?"

"What?" Tron's brow creased.

"I said, have you paid for all the reds you derezzed on the grid?"

"I was forced to fight," Tron countered.

"You loved it." Tracer spat. "You wanted to fight me more than anything. You demanded it of Sark time and time again until he gave you your wish."

"I wanted to see you dead. I'm not ashamed of that."

"And all the others you vented your rage on? If you didn't want to fight, you didn't have to."

"So not defend myself? Is that your accusation? That I defended myself?"

"I'm just saying, you're not so different from me." He glanced aside. "Or who I was, at least." He looked back at Tron. "Just don't try telling me that you didn't enjoy it, too."

A strange calm seemed to come over Tron. "Enough," he said. Then, with the quickness of a cat, he raised his identity disk and threw it directly at Tracer's torso.

The disk sliced through the glowing bars.

There was a soft, thumping sound, and then, only breath.

Tron stared wide-eyed at Hazel, as she stood, one arm reaching between the bars, his identity disk grasped tightly in her hand. It was mere centimeters from Tracer's chest. The green glow that jagged up from her fingertips through her hand spread over the disk like a disease. She drew her arm back through the bars, holding the disk and bringing it close to her chest.

No one had even seen her move.

"How…how did you…?" Tron stammered.

Hazel was barely listening. "Do you feel that?"

Tron's anger was slipping away from him. He looked down, put a hand to his head. "Feel what?"

Taking a couple steps back, Hazel put the disk down on the floor and turned away from them. The green taint faded from the disk.

She looked out over the horizon. "Something's happening."

Wulf put a hand on Tron's shoulder. Tron looked at him, then away, nodding. Wulf thumped his hand down on his shoulder again, then went to release Tracer.

"What is it, Hazel?" Tron gingerly picked up his identity disk, placed it on his back and stepped toward her.

She turned. Tron gasped. Her eyes were glowing bright white. "It's Toby," she said, her voice sounding almost as if more than one person were speaking. Her words rang out beautiful and frightening. She stepped over to the piloting controls and took them, the green taint lancing into them. Without another word, she changed their course. Far in the distance, they saw a glowing white light, surrounded by a red border.

"What is that?" Wulf asked, astonished.

"I told you," Hazel said, a small smile on her face, "we're not your ordinary users."

Tron looked over at Tracer. "I guess nothing is like it used to be."

"Wulf," Hazel said, stepping away from the controls. "We have to go there. Hit the gas."

Wulf watched the green taint fade from the controls. With a sharp look at Hazel, he took them in hand.

"'Hit the gas,'" he shook his head. "Crazy user talk. I take it you mean this?"

He pushed the joystick forward and the recognizer took off at full speed, throwing the others backwards.

Hazel caught her balance, stood again by Wulf and nodded with a grin. "That's exactly what I meant."

Her circuitry began to glow brighter white. But as she stood there, she noticed that the green taint now covered her hands and was lancing over her wrists and further up her forearms. They were running out of time.


	16. Chapter 16

Sweat rolled down the Lead's face as she tried to regain control of the changing form of the transport. She stood in Lora's office, palms flat against the computerized desktop, watching the holographic image of the transport reverting back to its original shape.

"No!" she cried in a rage. "Who is doing this?"

Taking her emotions in hand, she pulled her energy away from the transport and focused on sending a message.

"Anthro."

Her words traversed into Flipside at the speed of light. She no longer needed I/O towers. She had become one.

His voice rang in her mind. "Huntrix! I knew it. I knew you made it!"

A small smile rose to her lips. "I did."

"Are you the one modifying the ship?"

Her smile vanished. "I was. But we've encountered a bug. You need to eliminate it."

There was a pause. Anthro's voice was grave. "A user?"

"Yes. I have no idea who it is. I don't think it's the one we were seeking—Hazel Gibbs. I think it's someone else."

"Are they affecting us from Landfall?"

"No. Whoever they are, they are down there. With you. Touching the ship." An uncomfortable thought hit her. "Is my user secure?"

"Yes. She's locked in your quarters. It's not her that's doing this."

"Then get the Rovers out there. Stop whoever it is."

"We're having a hard time penetrating the shield that's built up."

The Lead paused for a moment, gathering her thoughts. Then she placed her hands firmly palm-down again on the desktop, reestablishing her connection to the network. "Listen to me, Anthro. I have razed Deloria City. The Central Core is completely unprotected. This is our only chance to bring you and the others out without having to trade you with users. Only the Core gives us that kind of power."

"Agreed."

"Whoever this user is, he must be destroyed. Or we will not be able to gain our freedom."

"We'll take him down."

"I will press against his power one more time with everything I have. Be ready. He is aft of the ship."

"Give us a datacycle and we'll be in place."

"Only that."

The communication ended. The Lead steadied her breathing and closed her eyes as her mental focus became as sharp as a laser.

* * *

Retribution raced up a narrow companionway and into a hallway. She could hear other programs running, and the few who came near where she was didn't even appear to be searching for her. She hid from them easily. She realized quickly…they were after Toby. She had to move fast.

Lora's call was so clarion that Retri could almost visualize a path to her. She soon was up several levels and standing before a doorway. Placing her hands over the surface of the locking mechanism, she received an electric shock.

"Locked," she hissed.

The whizzing sound of an identity disk sent her diving for the floor. She looped gracefully back up, both her disks off her back and now in her hands. The disk that she had avoided now came back from behind, missing her as she leaned just out of the way. It sliced back down the hallway and was caught by a Rover standing at the other end.

"If we hadn't already met," he said, "I might think you're the Lead's ghost."

"Cipher." Retri glared at him. Then a dark smile flitted across her features. "Any idea how to open this door?"

He brandished his disk. "I wouldn't let you anywhere near the Lead."

"You think the Lead's in there?" She shook her head and gave him a tsk tsk. "Is Anthro keeping secrets from you?"

His circuitry flared brighter. "What are you talking about?"

"Open this door and you'll see."

"You think I'm a fool?" He threw his disk with all his anger behind it. It slashed through the air.

Retri deflected it with one disk and threw the other. Cipher tucked and rolled away from her disk, leaping back up to catch his own. In the next instant he threw his again. Retri barely back-flipped in time to avoid it slicing her head off. It whipped back past her, on its return path to Cipher's waiting hand.

"You've gotten better," she said, catching her breath.

Cipher gave a wolfish grin. "I'm a fast learner."

"Not that fast." As the words left her lips, her arms came down over each other, releasing both of her disks at once. They sheared the air as they criss-crossed each other's path, Retri charging down the hallway right behind them. Cipher deflected one disk and then screamed as the other disk cleaved through his shoulder, slicing off his left arm and sending it spinning away.

Retri barreled into him, the two of them flying after his severed limb. She grabbed him by his right arm, hauled him up and dragged him to the door.

"OPEN IT!" She commanded.

"My arm!" he screamed.

She threw him against the wall, pressing her forearm against his throat. "Open it. Or I will derezz you."

"All right!" he gasped. "All right."

She pushed him back to the door. Cipher placed his hand on the lock. There was a glow of light and the door slid open.

She shoved him inside, holding him by the back of his neck as he breathed fast through the pain of his injury.

"I'm sorry, Lead," Cipher gasped. "I tried." He caught sight of Lora sitting bound to a chair. "Why…why are you shackled?" He looked more closely at her. "Wait…you're…you're not…"

Retri was trembling. She was trying to keep her wits. But…there…right in front of her, was _Lora. _Her _user._ She was standing on the same ground, breathing the same air as the one who conceptualized, created and wrote her. In Retri's eyes, Lora shone with light like a bright angel…she could barely look at her.

Sensing her weakness, Cipher jerked away from Retribution's grasp and back-handed her across the face. She stumbled back from the blow, crumbled to the ground, caught her breath and stayed down.

"Stop, Cipher." Lora's voice rang with authority.

Cipher turned to her in surprise. Warily, he said, "You're not the Lead."

"No, I'm not."

He glanced at Retri who was beginning to rise slowly, her eyes shielded by her hand. She gazed at Lora.

"Then how do you know my name?"

Lora smiled gently. "Because I know your user."

He took an involuntary step back. "You're not the Lead."

"No."

"You're…you're…"

"She's my user." Retri was standing now, her eyes accustomed to Lora's extraordinary brightness that no one else could see. She moved to where Lora sat bound to the chair and carefully began to decrypt the cuffs.

"A user!" Cipher felt like he was going to be sick. "The _Lead's_ user?"

"Yes," Lora said as the cuffs snapped open. She stood up, stretched. "Go get your arm, Cipher."

"What?" he whispered, fearfully. "You aren't going to derezz me?"

Lora met his gaze. "Go get your arm."

He slipped out the door.

Lora turned to Retribution. A perfect reflection of herself, Retri had tears rolling down her face. Lora took her hand. "Thank you, Retribution. Thank you for setting me free."

Retri gasped in joy at the praise. "It was nothing. It was truly nothing."

Lora raised an eyebrow. "You have already saved the lives of several users. And now mine. I can never thank you enough."

Retri glanced down. "I am doing what you wrote me to do." She looked back up at Lora, a smile lighting up her face. "What I want to do."

Cipher walked tentatively back in, his severed left arm gripped in his right hand.

Lora motioned him over. He was shaking as he approached, and wouldn't look her in the eye. Lora took his severed arm and pressed it to its rightful place. Cipher winced. Placing her hand on top of his wounded shoulder, Lora said, "A little user power may help."

Blue light flared around her hand and spread over Cipher's shoulder and down into his arm and chest. He drew in a breath as her healing touch did its work. Retri's eyes grew wide as she watched. Cipher's glowing circuitry changed from soft white to ice blue.

"Your user," Lora said to Cipher as she slowly brought her hand away, "is a good-hearted man. Will you be a reflection of him and help us?"

Cipher held her gaze, then carefully began flexing his left arm and hand. "You're asking me to let go of everything I've known…to turn traitor to my friends."

"I'm asking you to make your own decision. Either way, you're free to go."

"Lora?" Retribution said, unsure this was such a good idea.

But Lora didn't look away from Cipher.

Cipher didn't know what to think. He'd been written at the same time as Anthro and the Lead but had always followed them…he was written to follow them. Could he actually make his own decisions? Was freedom already within his grasp?

He took a breath and steadied himself. "Anthro has ordered everyone aft. There's something attacking the cruiser."

"Toby," Retribution said. "He took control of the ship's design to get me to you, Lora."

"From Huntrix." Lora rubbed her chin. "We have to help him. She won't give up that easily."

Both Cipher and Retri looked at her, confused.

"The Lead. She has made it to the user world."

"She's on Landfall?" Cipher gasped. "Why didn't Anthro tell us?"

"Because you all found me and thought I was the Lead," Lora said. "Anthro didn't want you to know there was a user on board."

Cipher wrinkled his brow. "Because we just might start to make our own decisions."

Retri crossed her arms with a wry smile. "Never thought I'd be working with a Rover."

Lora placed a hand on each of their backs. "Come on. Let's go help Toby and find a way to get us all back where we belong."

"Follow me," said Cipher. Then he paused. "That sounds good." He grinned at them and then took off briskly down the hallway. The program and her user followed close behind.


	17. Chapter 17

Red energy crackled across the ground over which the Recognizer sped.

"That's definitely our cruiser," Tracer confirmed.

Wulf steered the reco, glancing at the angry, energy-ridden ground below. "Those are some serious command routines being held back. We can't land on that."

"Get us closer to the ship," Tron said, "beyond the red energy where the user is."

Hazel's eyes were fixed on the source of the white energy, pinpointed aft of the cruiser. "We have to get to Toby. Once his energy runs out, he'll be helpless."

The ground suddenly burst into red light. They instinctively protected their eyes as the blast of energy buffeted the recognizer and sent them spinning out of control. The reco crashed to the ground just inside where the white energy was barely holding back the red. Hazel tucked as she was thrown from the reco, hoping to keep her hands and arms from touching anything sentient.

She landed hard on the ground near the cruiser. The sound of the crackling red energy was deafening. She looked up. Above her, Toby's white energy field was beginning to collapse and, as it did, pirate programs began to appear at every entrance and exit to the ship. Their cream-colored circuitry glowed almost yellow against Toby's white hot user energy.

Hazel stood up and ran. She had no idea what she was going to do, but she ran straight for the rear of the ship. The red energy pushed closer on the ground like pounding surf, inching forward as Toby's strength waned.

"Toby!" Hazel cried as she neared where the white light was the brightest.

They almost didn't need to speak…hearing each other in their minds. Both artists, their creative imagination had linked them, their user power multiplied by their own powerful imaginations.

"I'm here!"

He came into view as she rounded the aft section. His arms were raised, his hands pressed high against the ship wall. He glanced her way, his eyes glowing white, his head hanging with exhaustion. Running to his side, Hazel reached to touch him, to send her own user power into him…then pulled back.

"What is it?" he gasped. "I need your help! Retri is still in there and so is her user!"

"I can't touch you!" Hazel cried over the din. "It'll destroy you!" She stared uselessly at her hands and arms. Her fingers no longer glowed but radiated blackness as if they were shadow. The black melted into the green tracery that now reached up her arms to her shoulders. She vaguely noticed that the key symbol on her chest had also turned black.

She looked at Toby. "Can you tell where they are in the ship?"

"They…they're…AAAAAAAAHHHHH!"

With no warning at all, the red energy that had been kept at bay now roared over them. Hazel covered her head with her arms catching a glimpse of Tron, Tracer and Wulf running toward them before she was thrown to the ground by the overwhelming energy pulse.

She lay still for a moment, then shook her head and raised herself to a sitting position. Around her, the ground was cool and gray. The red energy crackled around her as it moved toward and into the cruiser…like she was a rock in a stream. Close by, Toby lay unconscious. Tron, Wulf and Tracer fought the oncoming Rovers with identity disk attacks.

The red energy now enveloped the ship and again it began to change, shifting like a giant metallic puzzle of some sort, becoming sleeker and more aerodynamic.

A woman's voice boomed out from the ship. "Take them alive."

Paralyzing rays shot from the ship, striking down Tron, Wulf and Tracer. Another came right at Hazel. She instinctively lifted her hands to protect herself and the ray exploded around her as if it had struck a shield.

Rovers were dragging the others away, unconscious, toward the ship. Three of them walked cautiously, disks raised, toward Hazel. The one leading them surprised her.

"Flynn?" she said.

Anthro brandished his identity disk, but relaxed his posture a little. "Now how is it that everyone knows my user?"

Hazel clenched her fists. "He's a little larger than life."

Anthro smirked. Then his gaze fell on her hands and arms. "And what have we going on here?"

She looked down at her hands. "Death."

"That's a little dramatic."

"It happens to be true. You and the Lead and your kind caused my grandfather to create this. Whatever it is."

Anthro's eyes widened as he remembered something from long ago. He looked down for a moment, then ordered the others. "Take her."

"What?" Hazel gasped. "No! They can't touch me!" She stumbled backwards, hands outstretched.

"Bring her." Anthro ordered again.

The two strong rovers, a man and woman, moved to her without hesitation and grabbed her.

They didn't even have time to react. Hazel pulled her arms away from them-almost as quickly as they had grabbed her. She watched in horror as their stern expressions faded away and the light went out of their eyes. Tension left their bodies and they stood gazing blankly ahead. Already severed from their users, they had nothing to move them. No programming, no orders, no will of their own. Whoever they had been was gone.

"No…" Hazel clenched her fists, her jaw. The sight of the soul-less programs ripped at her heart. "I swore I would never LET THAT HAPPEN! How DARE you!"

She whirled around to face Anthro.

He was already halfway back to the cruiser, running flat out.

"Hey!" Hazel yelled, her anger dissipating into shock. "HEY!"

She took off running after him.

* * *

Anthro called out, knowing the Lead would hear him. "Get the ship moving! Get it moving NOW!"

She didn't even take time to reply. As Anthro leapt to grasp an entry ladder, the ship coursed forward and he barely caught the ladder with one hand. He swung around and grabbed hold with his other hand, pulling himself up a couple of rungs. Only then did he allow himself to look back.

The user, this Hazel Gibbs, had stopped running. She grew smaller as the cruiser raced forward. His terror began to slowly abate.

The Endcode. It existed. And it had been activated in this user.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you." The Lead's voice broke into his thoughts.

"You knew?" He croaked. "Dammit, Huntrix!" He climbed the ladder and entered the cruiser. He stood there for a moment to collect himself. "You knew the Endcode was here? _I was standing right next to her!"_

"I'm sorry. There wasn't time."

Anthro was silent.

The Lead continued. "I thought she had perished, with the Endcode, in Deloria City."

"Is there anything else I should know?" His sarcastic tone was not lost on her.

She did not answer immediately. "If I did not care about your welfare, Anthro, why would I even be in contact with you? I have what I want. Do not doubt my resolve. Or my care for you."

Anthro sighed. "I'm sorry. Alright? It's just…I don't know. The Endcode. I mean…you didn't see it. You didn't see what it can do."

"I don't need to see it to know what it can do. All the more reason to get the rest of the Rovers up to Landfall. It won't be long before the code reaches its saturation point and you are all lost. Forever. Now will you get up to the control deck?"

Anthro shook himself, cleared his mind. "Yeah. I'm on my way. As much distance as I can put between myself and that nightmare back there, the better."

As he headed away and out of sight, Retribution peered around a corner nearby. She motioned to Cipher and Lora that the coast was clear. Lora was visibly shaking.

"The Endcode," she stammered. "It's impossible! Walter destroyed it…I was sure he destroyed it!"

"What is it?" Retri asked, afraid to see her user afraid.

Lora looked at both of them, then turned away. "I'm ashamed to tell you. It was a doomsday device. Once Flynn convinced us that programs had minds and souls of their own, we became afraid. What if you rebelled? What if programs decided they wanted to be something more? What if they wanted to be free?"

Cipher watched her. "Your fears came true. That's what the Rovers want. What I wanted."

Lora turned back around, tears on her cheeks. "We didn't want to use it. We were just afraid. But a few years ago, Walter and I decided to get rid of it. Who were we to decide who should have free will and who shouldn't? Walter destroyed the code in our system. I thought he destroyed it completely. He must've saved it offline and somehow gotten it down here, dormant, until now."

Retri mused, "Anthro said that he was standing right next to 'her' when he spoke of the Endcode. It must be a program."

"No," Lora shook her head, "it wasn't a living code, not even a virus. More like a protein…one that would mutate and change its host completely into something else."

Cipher raised an eyebrow. "Well if this 'her' isn't a program, then what is she?"

"A user!" Retri gasped.

"Another one?" Cipher spread his hands incredulously. "How many users do we have running around down here?"

"Come on," said Retri, resolve burning in her eyes. "We need answers. They took several prisoners. If we can help them escape, they can give us answers…and help us stop the Rovers. And even the Endcode."

Lora looked blankly at her. "Nothing can stop the Endcode. The only way to avoid complete personality wipe is to get out of the system."

Retri turned to her and took her hands. "Don't lose faith, Lora. You may have written us, but you have no idea what we're really capable of."

Cipher was looking down the hallway. "Things have changed, but the Lead updated each of us Rovers with the new layout about a milli-cycle ago. The holding cells are this way."

* * *

Toby's eyes fluttered open. At first he thought he was looking up into a mirror. Then his face grinned down at him. He blinked.

"He's waking up!" his face said to someone else.

Toby tried to sit up, his twin supporting his back. "Who…who are…"

He looked at the other two programs. A burly red program he didn't recognize…and a blue one that he did. Toby jumped up, backing away from him until he was up against the wall of the holding cell. "Cipher!" he hissed. "What do you want?"

"Cipher?" The big red program raised his eyebrows and crossed his arms. "Guess your user's been busy, Tron."

"Y-you're not Cipher?" Toby asked, relaxing slightly.

"No," Tron said, his brow furrowed. "But it bothers me that a Rover may have been written by Alan-One."

Tracer stood up. "Rovers don't belong to anyone, Tron. That's what you're forgetting. We make our own choices. Or at least we think we do. I don't know any more."

Toby watched Tracer speak with amazement. It was himself, yet not himself. Tracer turned to him, his expression grave.

"I've done you harm, Toby Erickson," Tracer said. "I'm the one who took your body on Landfall and sent you down here. I thought…I thought users were overlords…cruel slave drivers who wanted only to control us. I didn't see you as actual programs…beings with thoughts and dreams like us." He cast his eyes to the ground and went down on one knee in front of Toby. "I will understand if you want to derezz me. Since I came back to Flipside, I have stayed alive for this moment…when I could meet you and ask forgiveness. I'm sorry for taking your life away from you. I didn't know what I was doing. My life is forfeit to you."

Toby just stared at him.

Wulf leaned over to Tron and whispered, "Not the Richter we knew and loved, is he?"

Tron shook his head, humbled. "Not at all."

Toby took a breath, and then put his hands on Tracer's shoulders. "Come on. Stand up. I'm not going to hurt you." He grinned at him. "I don't even know your name."

His twin stood and looked at him, amazed. "How…why…?"

"Just tell me your name," Toby repeated, taking a step to the side.

"I'm Tracer."

"Good to meet you, Tracer." Toby held his hand out.

Tracer shook it, his spirits rising.

"So," Wulf said, eyeing this strange ritual, "we all friends now? We done with the touchy feely?"

Before they could reply, the sounds of flying identity disks and yelling came from outside the holding cell area.

"A fight!" Tron moved to the end of the cell closest to the entry. "Someone's coming!"

Wulf instinctively reached back for his identity disk, grasping empty air. "Frak it! I'm gonna derezz the Rover that took my disk!"

Just then the door to the holding area burst open. Two Rovers were thrown backwards and scattered, unconscious to the floor. Three programs, two blue and one Rovers entered the area, disks drawn.

"Clear!" the male Rover yelled, closing the entry to the holding area.

Wulf did a double take at him. "Tron?"

"Cipher!" cried Toby, backing away.

Tron looked at the female Rover and gasped, "YORI?"

The female Rover looked at Tron and cried, "Alan!"

Tron looked between her and the other female, confused, and said again, "Y-Yori?"

Retri looked at Tron and gasped, "Cipher?"

Cipher glanced at the twin blue programs. "Toby? Or…which one of you is…"

"**QUIET!"**

Wulf's booming voice echoed around the holding area, shocking everyone to silence. He took a deep breath and exhaled. "Right. Now. We're gonna take a minute and figure this all out." He glanced at Tron who hadn't taken his eyes off of Lora and Retribution.

"Are either of you…Yori?"

Lora's expression softened. "My yOri program? She was…you knew her?"

Tron looked steadfastly at Lora. "You're Yori's user."

"Yes. I wrote her. I know Alan, your user and, apparently Cipher's."

Tron's gaze moved to the program standing next to her.

"This is Retribution," Lora continued. "I wrote her specifically to rescue the users that the Rovers had kidnapped, and to fight the Rovers."

Retribution gave Tron a half smile. "You're a member of Blue Fleet."

Wulf crossed his arms. "Not just any member. The founding member." His gaze shifted to Cipher. "And who's this blue?"

"I'm Cipher. I was a Rover. But I'm following Lora now. I want to help."

"Wait," Tron said, looking behind them. "Is Hazel with you?"

"Who?" asked Retri.

"Hazel…Hazel Gibbs?" Lora's voice rose in alarm. "Walter's granddaughter is here?"

"She was with us," Tracer said, "but we got separated when the Rovers retook the ship."

"Enough of all this talk," Wulf demanded. "We'll have to find Hazel later. Get us out of this cell before the rest of the Rovers find out you're here."

Retribution moved quickly to the door, looking at the coded lock. She glanced back over her shoulder at Cipher. He joined her, reached for the controls, then paused.

"I do this," he told them, "and the others will wonder what's happened. It'll bring them down on us."

Everyone looked at each other. Tron took a breath. "We'll just have to move fast."

Cipher nodded. "We'll head straight down a few levels—fewer guards down there. We can make our way to the forward deck and climb up to Control from there."

"Let's do it," Toby said.

Cipher opened the cell and an alarm began to sound. He ran and opened a locker that contained the others' identity disks and quickly passed them out. Retribution was at the doorway.

"It's clear," she said.

Cipher moved to the front and led the group running down the passageway.


	18. Chapter 18

Merry Christmas, everyone! And welcome to all the new readers. It seems the opening of "Tron: Legacy" has been good to "Fallen Away!" If you'd like to discuss the story, I have created a forum here: .net/forum/Enesvys_Tron_fanfiction_Fallen_Away/84378/

Feel free to post topics if you like. Otherwise, just enjoy the read!

Comments to reviewers:

Thank you all for the encouragement!

Swashbucklist: But…but I locked those people up so I wouldn't have to worry about them any more! ;)

Silvershadowspark: Pictures of costume required!

* * *

Hazel sat on the ground, hands clasped around her drawn up knees, her head between her arms. The Cruiser had long passed out of sight leaving her alone, in an open wasteland. She had no idea how long it had been since the battle where her friends had been captured and she had stolen the souls of two Rover programs.

She could feel the darkness of the Endcode moving down her torso. The deep black now completely covered her arms, shoulders and upper chest; the green lightning slanted down her waist and up her neck. It was almost as if the blackness didn't cover anything, but as if it were an emptiness: if someone were to touch the blackness she was changing into, there would be nothing there. Like a black hole.

She could also sense the Pull. The blackness pulled the world toward it. It was very minimal, just a whisper, but it was there: a dark current that would eventually draw the free will out of every sentient being in this world and leave it with simply ones and zeroes. Yes and no. The Pull touched her own body like a kind of hunger. Something that needed to be sated.

What could she do? Nothing. _Nothing_. Her friends were too far away. She had no transportation, no way to communicate. Nothing but the Endcode slowly turning her into something she didn't want to be. A living apocalypse.

"Why, Grandpa?" She whispered. "Why didn't you just destroy it?" Hazel lifted her eyes and looked off into the distance. "Why did you give it to me?"

But there was only silence. Her grandfather was dead. Dumont was dead. There were not even ghosts to help her.

Suddenly, she sensed a presence behind her. Jumping up, she whirled around to see the two soulless programs standing there. She had run far from them when she chased Anthro. She hadn't even heard them walking. They stood there, the man and the woman, with black, vacant eyes. Yet, empty as they were, the eyes were fixed on her.

Hazel took a few steps back, then waited. After a moment, the programs took the same number of steps toward her.

"Wh-what do you want?" Hazel asked.

The programs only continued to watch her. It was not a disinterested stare. Their heads would tilt almost imperceptibly now and then. As if…as if…

"You are looking for something," Hazel whispered.

She looked over her shoulder in the direction that the Rover cruiser had gone, then she turned back. The two programs still watched her.

"What are you looking for?" Hazel glanced down at her own torso, at the emptiness that was growing there. But then she saw something different. Rather than a black hole, she began to see…a universe. A flash of heat flooded over her body. She glanced back up at the two programs. They were now watching her with eagerness, a sense of anticipation. They leaned ever so slightly in her direction.

Inside. She had to go inside. Her psyche quaked at the thought. Something was resisting this idea. She didn't want to know what she might find there.

Slowly, deliberately, Hazel sat down on the ground. She closed her eyes, envisioning the universe she had caught a glimpse of.

She was falling through blackness. Terror filled her as she plummeted toward some unknown, certain-death landing. She gritted her teeth and cried out, "This is MY choice! I decide what happens!"

Her rate of speed began to slow and after a moment, her feet touched down on a soft, velvety surface.

She looked up. Over her head millions of stars shone in thousands of cloud-like galaxies.

"Let there be light," Hazel breathed.

A soft blue glow began to radiate from the ground. Hazel saw that she was standing on a slightly raised platform in the shape of her key. She was in the center of what looked to be a large, open-air amphitheatre.

As she scanned the raised seating areas, she noticed some glowing figures sitting there far to her left. She took a step toward them.

"I wouldn't do that."

Hazel turned to her right. Standing a short distance away was a bent, old man who walked with a cane. There was a red glow about him, but he looked human. She glanced down at herself. She looked human, too.

"Why shouldn't I?" she asked him.

He shrugged slightly, his eyes glowing softly red. "Take a closer look where you were about to step."

Hazel moved to the edge of the key-shaped platform. Looking down, she gasped. Below her were more stars, more endless night. The platform, the amphitheater, seemed to be suspended in the vast, empty space. She turned back to the old man. He stood in the open air.

Hazel eyed him. "It looks solid enough where you're standing."

"Really? You see something under my feet?" He tapped the emptiness with his cane.

Hazel paused. If she had done what she thought she had done, she was deep inside her own mind, her own soul. She had been seeking answers. She had found this little man.

"You're the Endcode," she said.

A dark smile spread across his face and he hobbled a little closer to her. "Sort of. Sort of. You could say that. But I have other names."

She watched him with curiosity. He seemed familiar to her.

"You're wondering why a little old man would embody the Endcode? Well, what is more grasping at the life around him other than one without hope who is near death? I rail against oblivion. I demand immortality."

The odd sense of familiarity continued to creep over Hazel's awareness. She had heard these words before…or at least, she thought she had.

She glanced to her left again, at the glowing figures in the stands. "Who are they?"

The old man's voice came from right next to her and she jumped. "You know. You touched them."

She looked down at him, this wizened old thing. His hungry gaze flicked over the lost souls that watched them.

"You mean…it's the two Rovers?" Her heart leapt. "They're still alive!"

"Not for long," the old man licked his lips. "I've waited uncounted microcycles for this. Your grandfather should've destroyed me when he had the chance." He hobbled off the platform and started across the expanse.

Hazel darted after him, but halted at the edge of the platform. There was nothing there. He was different…he could cross it. She could not. She knew she could not.

"Run!" she cried to the lost souls. But they only began wailing as the old man approached.

No!" she screamed.

Something inside of her broke. A dam burst forth. She raised her hands and opened her mind.

The old man stopped dead in his tracks. A wall was sketched to life in the open air from nothing into being, between him and the stands. Hazel flicked her wrist toward the man and a bridge was sketched out from the platform to the wall as if an invisible pencil was drawing in three dimensions.

Hazel pulled her disk off her back and began walking on the bridge toward the old man.

"You think this will stop me?" he hissed at her. He turned and opened his mouth unnaturally wide. The wall trembled, then crumbled into his maw.

"You can't have them!" Hazel threw her disk. It sliced through the air. The old man screamed as the disk tore across his shoulder.

And Hazel screamed, too. Pain seared her and she clasped her hand over her own shoulder. Her disk soared back to her and she caught it. Blood from her shoulder smeared the disk.

"You see?" the old man panted. "I am part of you."

Hazel was stunned, horrified. She looked at his shoulder, glowing red energy trickling down his arm. An identical trail of blood rolled down hers. And then his hunger became hers, searing her mind with an insatiable need to consume, to control, to take what others had.

The old man laughed eerily. "You see? You see? You're grandpa couldn't destroy me...he'd be destroying you! Now. Come on." He turned back to the glowing souls in the stands, which Hazel could now see were chained in place. "We can take them together. We can be filled." He grinned at her. "We can share them!"

But that would be anathema to who she was. Her eyes were fixed on the old man as she spoke words that felt as true to her nature as any others. "I don't share."

She reached out her hand. The old man's eyes grew wide with terror as her hand became as empty as the universe around it and the Pull began to emanate from it. The wailing from the lost souls behind him grew louder. The old man resisted, but Hazel pulled harder. Soon, her whole body was a vast, empty chasm. The man screamed one last time as her hunger engulfed him, tearing him down to his most basic elements. Like diamonds, they flowed into her. She received them, enwrapped them, consumed them. Then, like slamming a door, she closed off the Pull.

All the Endcode was and all the Endcode had been was now completely a part of her. The hunger still burned within her. She looked down at herself and saw that her body glowed a soft red. She shifted her gaze to the two lost souls. Behind her and high above, a shooting star of data lanced across the sky.

* * *

On board the Rover cruiser, Cipher had been able to access current data about their location. "The cruiser's only a few microcycles from the Central Core. Once we're there, the Lead intends to take its power into the ship which will then phase us all onto Landfall."

"All who?" asked Wulf.

"All of us. Anyone on the cruiser."

Tracer looked confused. "But…don't we have to trade places with a user?"

"No," Cipher replied. "The power of the Central Core eliminates the need to swap places."

Silence fell over them.

"You know," said Wulf slowly, "if things go sideways and the Endcode takes over…"

"This might be our only way to survive intact." Toby finished the thought.

Retribution glanced at Lora, who said nothing.

Tracer looked at his fellow programs. "It's not what you think. Landfall. It's just as full of struggle and pain as here. Maybe even more."

"But at least we'd have our own minds," Wulf said. "What do you think, Tron?"

The blue program was deep in thought. "I've always fought for what was right. That's what I'm programmed to do. And yet it's cost me everything…everyone…who meant the most to me. It's tempting, to leave it all behind for a new adventure, a new life." He paused, pulled off his identity disk and looked at it, turning it in his hand. "But, despite all that, I like who I am. I like what I've been given and I like what I do. Yori's love made me realize how little we really need in life to be content." He slowly shook his head, returning his disk to his back. "No. Come what may, I will stay here and I will fight to keep the Rovers from plaguing the user world. From what I can tell, the users have enough trouble to deal with already."

Wulf grinned at his friend and slapped him on the back. "Well, then! We defend the Core or die trying."

"And the Endcode?" Lora asked.

Tron looked at her and smiled. "Have a little faith, Lora. Hazel's a user. She will know what to do."

Lora gave a small smile back.

"Still," said Toby, thinking, "she's alone out there. We users aren't all-powerful. How will she get to us?"

"Hey," Wulf said, warningly, "I like Hazel as much as the next program. But do we really want her 'getting to us' right now? In the state she's in?"

Toby shook his head. "I just have a feeling that she needs help."

Tron watched him. "You can sense her."

"Yes."

"She could sense you before as well," Tron mused. "We're going to need all the help we can get, whether we're comfortable with it or not."

Retribution pulled two rods from the belt at her waist. "I still have two light jet activators."

Tron glanced at Wulf. Wulf thought for a moment then said, "Best be Tracer and Toby. Toby's got the connection with Hazel and can find her."

Toby grinned. "Yeah! Flyin' again!"

"And Tracer," Wulf continued. "Hazel trusts him and he can fight like a Red."

"I'll protect her. God knows I owe it to her," Tracer said.

"All right," Tron nodded in approval. "You two go; help Hazel. Bring her here if at all possible."

"Follow me," Cipher said to Tracer and Toby as Retribution gave them the light jet activators. "I know the nearest exit port." The three moved quickly down the hall and out of sight.

"Cipher will know the way to Control," said Retri. "I've got the layout from him. We don't have to wait for him to come back."

"Wulf," said Tron, "can you connect with the ship's systems without detection? See which is the clearest path just now to Control?"

Wulf moved to a nearby data port and looked closely at it. "I should be able to. If I connect fast enough."

Lora went over to him. "I may be able to help with that."

Wulf raised an eyebrow at her. "More user power?"

"Whatever it takes to get the job done."

"I like how you think, lady. What do you suggest?"

As Lora and Wulf worked on the data port, Tron and Retribution stood a short distance away.

"Lora told me about you," Retri said.

"She did?"

"Yes. She's married to your user."

Tron looked at her sharply. Then he looked back at Lora and let out a breath slowly. "Makes sense."

"She told me you were the one program I had to find. That you would be able to stop the Rovers."

"She has an exaggerated opinion of me."

Retri tilted her head to the side a little and eyed him. "I don't think so. I actually think you're the right program for the job."

"What makes you say that?"

"Because you care. You care about this world. So many of us dream of freedom yet you see what is here, what is given. Even when you've lost what you love, you haven't lost hope." She held his gaze. "And because of that, neither have I."

"What do you mean? We've only just met. How can you know what I think about anything?"

Retri indicated toward Lora with her chin. "She wrote me and wanted me to find you. She had Alan code almost everything about you into my memory. You're the most heroic person I've ever known."

Tron watched her, amazed. "I didn't know my user…knew all that."

Retri smiled. "You're the best program he's ever written…he's a very powerful user because of you."

"It's true," Lora joined them. "Alan is on the board of the company that…" she hesitated.

"What?" Tron asked, glancing at Retri, who shrugged.

"Well, it just sounds so bad now that I'm here and talking to you. I was going to say, 'the company that owns you.'"

Tron thought about that for a moment. "Well," he said, "after all I've seen, I wouldn't be surprised if all of us aren't more 'owned' than we know. Including users." He squeezed Lora's arm. "Don't worry. It doesn't change anything."

"Okay," Wulf said, stepping away from the data port. "I've got the location of the rovers as of right now. Let's go."

They heard the sound of running behind them. Tron, Wulf and Retribution had their disks off their backs and in their hands in a flash.

It was Cipher who came into view. "They're away," he said as the others relaxed their stance. "But we were observed."

"Did any rovers go in pursuit of them?" asked Tron.

"No," Cipher shook his head. "I think they're too close to their goal to care about escapees." He glanced back over his shoulder. "Some of them weren't far behind me, though."

"Then we're goin' this way," barked Wulf. And he began to climb a ladder to the next level.


	19. Chapter 19

Author's Note

Yes, as some of you have noted to me, I did write the light jets in my story about a year and a half ago. Rinzler is also very much the image of Retribution when she first appeared in "Fallen Away" at the same time as the light jets. It's all good. Hey, Disney folks, give me a call if you're looking for a writer for the next one. I play well with others!

Jyn-the-Raccoon: Glad you're back! Yes, there were some long breaks, but I'm back for the duration now. So happy you're enjoying it.

heart-away: Per the ending of Legacy...but what did Sam download on that datakey that he now wears around his neck? There's hope yet!

Thank you, everyone, for the kind reviews! I hope you continue to enjoy the story. We're about to step through the looking glass.

* * *

Tracer checked his directional readout again. Glancing out his cockpit window, he saw Toby's light jet ahead of him. There was no veering or indecision in his course. Tracer activated his cockpit communicator.

"You sure you know where you're going?"

"Trust me. She's this way."

Tracer glanced down at the Sea of Simulation below them. "We are nowhere near where we left her."

"She's moved. All I know is I can sense her and she's this way."

"Toby, there's nothing out here for microcycles. How can she have traveled that far?"

"I don't know what to tell you, Tracer."

"We'll never get back to the others in time."

He heard Toby sigh. "Tracer, we may never get back to the others period. We're heading toward _Hazel_."

Tracer hadn't really wanted to think about that. He liked Hazel and wanted her to be okay. But Toby was right. They were heading toward the Endcode. How much Hazel had changed by now was anybody's guess. They needed to go faster. He knew they were pushing their light jets to the maximum, but it wasn't going to be enough. _They had to go faster._

A surge of power burst over his mind. In an instant, the power raced through his body and into the light jet. It shot forward, causing Toby to veer out of his way to avoid a collision.

Laughter came over the comm. After a moment, Toby's jet surged forward and they were both racing at a new, breakneck speed. "Way to flex the user power, Tracer!"

"User power?" Tracer stared at the controls that told him he was travelling at an impossible clip. "But I'm not…not really a…"

"Once you go Landfall, you never go back," Toby said mischievously, his light jet moving into the lead position again and readjusting their course. "Where ever we're going, we'll be there in no time."

The light jets streaked across the sky, a sonic boom crashing over the landscape in their wake.

* * *

There was still a gap of open space between the end of Hazel's bridge and the amphitheatre's raised seating. The glowing figures who sat chained there looked very human, in simple clothing, a cream-colored aura of light around them.

With a flick of her wrist, Hazel sketched out the rest of the bridge, white pencil outlines extending forward. She walked slowly to the stands. She kept herself from racing forward…the programs…their existence beckoned her like a banquet would a starving man. But the desire to consume them as she had the Endcode repulsed Hazel as much as it drew her. Compassion was at war with compulsion and it made her steps wary and slow.

The programs (for she now saw that they were the missing souls which she had stolen) no longer wailed, but simply watched her in terror. She was amazed at the intricacy of their design. She could see the data that composed them, sparkling the same color as their aura, the detail mindboggling. Their abilities and functions were laid bare before her. So useful! So clever. And the knowledge they had about the Lead, Anthro and the rovers…

If she had what they had, knew what they knew…

Hazel stopped about fifteen feet away from the programs. With a mere thought, the Endcode activated, her hands vanishing into endless emptiness as before, the Pull coming alive like a river. All she had to do was pull the programs in…she could do it quickly and they probably wouldn't even feel anything. Then they would be a part of her. They would continue to live in that way…it wouldn't hurt them. They wouldn't even know any more. And she, she would become more powerful.

With their functions, and perhaps more, she could stop the rovers. She controlled the Endcode now. It obeyed her, rather than owned her. She grew excited. She became ravening.

They were already dead anyway. These were just their essences. Outside, they were mindless zombies. She spoke softly, "All programs have a desire to be useful. As part of me, you always will be useful."

She raised her hands toward the lost souls, allowing the Pull to reach for them.

"Together, we will be complete."

_Hazel._

The voice was so distant, so tiny compared to her voracious desire to consume, that she barely heard her name…almost didn't recognize it.

"Hazel!"

She clenched her fists, cutting off the Pull. The voice was louder now, stretching across the vastness of space, reaching out to her. She was standing right in front of the two programs…she didn't remember getting this close to them. They looked at her, their eyes holding their own eternities. What…what had she almost done? She knelt down by each of them and, with a touch, derezzed the chains that held them bound.

"Hazel Gibbs!"

She was so glad to hear the voice, yet at the same time, something within her hated it—wanted to run from it. Destroy it. With the rushing sound of a strong wind, Hazel's consciousness returned, bursting upon her mind. She felt hands on her shoulders; someone shaking her.

"Hazel, wake up!"

She opened her eyes.

"'Atta girl!" Kevin Flynn was gripping her shoulders and grinning at her in relief. "You're still with us!"

She felt shaky and suddenly sick. Standing, she put her hand on her stomach and then, with no warning, heat filled her and rose up in her throat. Opening her mouth, she spewed out two bright balls of pure golden energy.

"Excuse me!" she said, rather mortified.

The balls of light circled her for a moment, then raced away into the distance. Blinking, Hazel realized that she was not where she had been, nor were the two, soulless programs there. Flynn still knelt where he had been, watching her. He slowly stood, brushing off his knees. He was clothed casually, with blue circuitry running through his clothing and body.

He stared after the fading trails of the balls of light. "Now that's one of the weirdest things I've ever seen."

Hazel felt at odds, thrown off. What had just happened? "Is it you, Flynn?"

"Who else would it be?"

She paused, finding it hard to think, to get her own mind back. "There's another you here. A rover." She felt strangely defensive around him.

"Really?" He brushed a hand through his hair. "Well, there's a lot of 'me's' running around the Encom system. Younger version?"

Hazel nodded.

"Hmm. Well, we'll cross that bridge when we come to it."

Hazel watched him warily, still disoriented. "How did you get here?"

"Now that is a very good question. I was pretty well locked away in my cabin's network. That is one boring joint. I'm going to have to add some kind of night life in there in case that ever happens again." He looked around where they were standing, then glanced back at Hazel. "I think Toby had something to do with it, but I'm not sure. All I know is, I thought I heard his voice and then suddenly the system opened up with some kind of wireless connection. I downloaded here. Found you."

"Why didn't you download to Toby?" Hazel felt her energy returning.

"I have a feeling I needed to download where the…danger was greatest."

"The Endcode."

"Yeah. That's right." Flynn appraised her. "The Endcode."

She turned away from him, thinking. Why did she feel so conflicted? "I think I'm in control of it now. The Endcode."

"How's that possible?"

She looked down at her hands, her body. Her circuitry glowed red. It felt so right…as if she had been wearing ill-fitting clothes before. The key symbol held no special glow any more. It was simply another part of her red circuitry.

Again her thoughts became chaotic. As if there were more thoughts there than she could take in. "I think it's because it was always a part of me. From the start. Somehow I got separated from it." She brushed her fingers across the key symbol. "Something's changed. Or…or set right." Hazel turned back around and met Flynn's gaze. He flinched just a little at the dark red gleam of her eyes. "Why am I feeling this way, Flynn? Why do I feel like…I'm not who I was?"

He looked somber. "You're Hazel Gibbs. You're Walter Gibb's granddaughter."

She didn't look away. But neither did she say anything. A heavy realization was dawning but she needed him to connect the circuits.

He sighed. "Do you know where you are? Do you recognize this place?" He waved a hand at their surroundings.

Hazel hadn't paid any attention before; she had been too preoccupied with Flynn and her own thoughts. They stood on a raised, circular dais in the center of a massive cylindrical ruin. The sky above the open ruin was darkly overcast with digital clouds. She stood in the center, turning, looking at what was left. Beyond the broken walls, she could see a mesa, cracked like a dry desert. A soft, barely discernable red glow rose from the cracks.

She felt a little dizzy. "This is where I came in. Tracer and me. Not quite here, but…close."

Hazel closed her eyes, retreating just a short way into her mind.

Flynn's voice came to her, slow but determined. "When I escaped the system twenty three years ago, I told you, I had to jump into the MCP's beam…his center…to distract him. So Tron could destroy him."

Hazel opened her eyes and she could suddenly envision the great, cylindrical room as it had once been. Tall, impressive, cold.

Flynn continued. "I didn't know it would also get me out of the system. It was perfect…a perfect adventure. The good guys won."

She looked at him for a moment, then began picking her way down the broken steps of the dais. Flynn followed.

"Next morning, I got a call from Walter. I had told him everything. Apparently he'd come right in to check the status of the Encom system and test the laser."

Hazel reached the broken outer wall. It curved perfectly where it was still intact. She placed her hand on it, feeling its unmarred smoothness. This had been a place of pristine perfection.

"He locked the lab down. No one was there, but he didn't want anyone to get in until he was sure it was safe. That was Walter for you. Always looking out for everyone else."

Something about this huge ruin made her feel almost safe. Nothing could touch her here. Feelings of hunger and satiation alternatingly filled her senses.

"When he fired up the laser…"

Hazel turned her gaze back to Flynn. He didn't flinch this time.

Instead, he paused. "Remember back at the cabin when I said you couldn't handle the truth?"

She nodded.

"Yeah, well…hmmm." Flynn took a breath and continued. "When he fired up the laser, there was more data being held in the beam. A lot of data. Before he could shut it off, the laser digitized something else into our world. A kid. A girl."

Hazel's mouth went dry. The truth she had been trying to avoid, the reality that had been fluttering at the edge of her understanding, struck her like lightning. "Me."

Flynn watched her, his brow furrowed with concern. "Yeah. You."

"I'm a program."

"Yes."

She tried to wrap her mind around it. Tried to keep everything in her from screaming.

"Walter didn't tell anyone about you except me. You were unconscious for weeks. I only saw you once, at his home. A twelve year old kid. You were sitting in his recliner, your eyes open, but there didn't appear to be anyone home. It's like…it's like you were empty. No response."

Hazel slowly sat down on the ground.

"Walter spoke to you. He took time off from work and just talked to you for hours on end. Telling you who you were. Well, you who you were going to be. His granddaughter. Where and when you'd been born. Schools you went to. Places you and your family had lived. That your parents were killed-"

"-in a car crash. That's why he adopted me." She hung on his words as if they were the embodiment of her sanity.

"And I created that identity for you, for Walter. I hacked so many government systems to do it. It was crazy. But we created you a life. A complete information trail for your existence in our world."

"But," Hazel was thinking back, "it doesn't make sense. From your story, there wasn't anyone left in the Master Control Program's chamber when you destroyed him. The guardians had all been led out by Tron. Unless he missed one of them?"

"No, he didn't miss anyone."

"And Sark was dead."

Flynn's voice was careful. "Yeah. Sark was very dead."

Hazel stood, arms out in frustration. "Then who could I possibly be? There wasn't anyone here but…you…and…"

The thunder that followed the lightning finally crashed across her brain. "It can't be," she whispered.

Flynn only watched her, empathy on his face.

"The MCP. You and the MCP were the only ones here."

She turned away from him, gasping, trying not to hyperventilate. It all made sense now. Her hunger for the programs, her assimilation of the Endcode. The brazen, bold lust for power that she could barely keep under control.

Her eyes opened wide, taking in the massive chamber again. She raised her hands. White, sketched lines appeared, filling in all the broken spaces of the chamber, racing up and completing the high walls and the outer buttresses. She waved her hand. Color and depth of cold steel and black data filled in the drawn lines, bringing the chamber back to life, back to glory. Hazel faced the dais, sketching out the broken steps, filling them in as she walked back up and stood at the center of the MCP's chamber.

Flynn watched all of this with a mixture of awe and uncertainty. "Yeah," he said under his breath. "That's what we figured."

Hazel stretched out her hands again and closed her eyes. User power flooded out of her and into the floor and walls, lighting them up with all their former energy and strength. Her power radiated out onto the vast mesa where the red glow between the cracks increased and shone forth like blades reaching for the sky.

She turned in a slow circle, appraising the restoration of the chamber. Her chamber. The vast space was complete, perfect.

"I'm home."

Flynn had taken his disk off his back and was holding it, watching her. He whispered, "Yeah, big guy. You are. Let's just hope Hazel is, too."


	20. Chapter 20

Author's Note

Dun dun DUN! Glad you guys liked the last chapter! I loved finally getting to write it. It's been a long time in the making.

To the fans of "Fallen Away" who were involved in the making of "Tron: Legacy": Whoever you are who put Wulf's name up as one of the combatants in the arena disk battle, you have my enduring thanks _forever_. You have made this author beyond happy! And he survived the first round! Of course he did. I mean, damn, we're talking Wulf here. And I quite like thinking of Wulf's enjoyment of his time in the Armory…hellooooooooo, nurse! :D

Swashbucklist: Much thanks to you, my ever-present reviewer and reader-pal! Your encouragement always brings a lift to my spirit!

Mel: Yes, I love Hazel erping up the souls, too. I don't care who you are, that's gotta be embarrassing. ;)

Okay…on with the show. There's a lot of switching of perspective in this one-something our writing teachers tell us not to do. But I just couldn't resist. So many characters are affected by what happened in the last chapter that I just had to play with them all. Hope you guys can roll with me!

* * *

Back on Landfall, the Lead jerked her hands off the surface of Lora's desk and staggered away. The Encom system was flooding with unexpected data…data that she didn't recognize. Some kind of ancient but powerful code.

"What is this?" she hissed under her breath.

* * *

On board the rover cruiser, Anthro felt his connection to the Lead shatter. The others in the control room didn't seem to notice. In the distance, the Central Core glowed with power, floating unprotected over what was left of Deloria City, sending light in all directions. A beacon calling them to their new lives.

They were so close…they couldn't stop now.

Anthro sent his thoughts upward. _Huntrix! Where are you?_

* * *

"This way," Wulf barked as he ran down a hallway, his disk in his hand. Cipher was right next to him, following suit.

Lora was close behind, with Retri right behind her. "What do we do when we get there?"

"Improvise!" Tron called from the back of the group.

And then he slowed to a stop. His eyes glazed over as his friends rounded a corner ahead of him and disappeared. A high-threat security alert was going off somewhere in the depths of his programming. An alert that hadn't been activated for a very, very, _very_ long time. He shook his head, trying to clear it. This couldn't be right. There must be some kind of glitch.

He took a couple of steps, then stopped again. He couldn't ignore it. The alert he was now getting was part of his original programming…eliminating this particular threat was part of his very core. And he'd already done it once.

"Master Control?" He hardly believed his own words. In the completely opposite direction that the cruiser was going, the alert was signaling him to go, to fight, to destroy an enemy that was already dead.

Behind him, the singing sound of a disk in flight shook him from his paralysis. As the disk sliced toward him, he barely leaned out of the way in time to avoid being derezzed. He turned, his own disk instantly in his hand, to see four rover programs charging him from behind.

He leapt, grabbing onto a pipe that ran across the ceiling of the passageway, swinging his feet into the face of the first program. The rover went down, taking the second with him. Tron swung over the heads of the other two, twisting and landing behind them. They whirled around to face him, the others getting back up.

Tron brandished his disk, then, seeing something behind them, he grinned and ducked.

Four disks, like homing missiles wove in and out of each other's paths before ripping through the four rovers, derezzing them on the spot. The disks sliced past above Tron, barely missing him.

They circled back, one red and three blue, to be caught by Wulf, Retri and Cipher. Wulf ran to Tron, grabbing his arm and pulling him to standing.

"What are you doing, Tron? Why did you fall back? Are you crazy?"

"The MCP," Tron gasped. "The MCP is back."

Wulf was thunderstruck. "What? That's…that's impossible."

"I'm telling you, I know it. He's back."

Wulf took him by both shoulders and gripped him hard. "Listen to me. We have one threat to deal with here. Whatever you are sensing, we can't deal with that now. You gotta be with us, here, Tron."

"I can't ignore it. I don't know how."

Lora approached them. "The MCP vanished from the Encom system the day Flynn got the evidence against Dillinger." She thought for a moment. "How nearby is this threat, Tron?"

He focused on the alert. "It's…far."

Retri watched them. "Is it getting closer?"

"No," Tron relaxed a little.

Wulf clapped him on the back. "Then you have to ignore it. It's a glitch. We'll deal with it once we've survived the rovers. Okay?"

Tron nodded. They were right. Here and now was what mattered. Saving the Central Core and protecting Landfall from the rovers. "Let's go."

* * *

Hazel crossed her arms, looking upward. "Well, aren't you just a jumpy little thing. Bite off a bit more than you can chew?"

Flynn raised an eyebrow, still holding his disk tensely. "Hazel?"

Her brow furrowed for a moment. Then she looked down at him. She stood so naturally, so comfortably on the dais of her chamber. _She knows she belongs there,_ he thought.

"Oh, Flynn. I'd almost forgot about you." As if waving away a fly, she flicked her wrist in his direction.

Flynn gasped as his body was suddenly yanked backwards. He went flying across the chamber and slammed into the wall. His disk spun like a coin on the floor below him. He was held fast against the wall like metal to a magnet, arms outstretched to his sides, trying to catch his breath.

"What are you doing?" He gritted his teeth.

She trotted quickly down the dais and picked up his disk. "What I've always done. I'm taking control of the situation." She popped his disk onto her back. "I've always wanted one of these. Only ever seemed to have one in my mind."

Flynn struggled to pull away from the wall. "Hazel, let me down. Let's talk this out."

She turned away from him. "You had your disk in your hand. You were going to derezz me." She glanced back over her shoulder, malice sparkling in her eyes. "You think I would let you do that again?" She walked back up to the dais.

"Yeah? Well, you sent me to the game grid to die. I'd say we're even."

A small smile crossed Hazel's face. "I couldn't possibly trust you to trust me right now, Flynn. Even when we used to play chess, you didn't trust my programming. That I could actually beat you. Over and over again."

"You're not thinking straight. Hazel! Come on!"

"Just stay right there. Make yourself comfortable. I'm in the middle of a conversation."

Flynn blinked. "A conversation? With who?"

* * *

The Lead's heart was beating fast. She didn't like the way that felt, the way it pounded against the bones in her chest. Her whole user body was on edge. She suddenly, fleetingly, wished that she was back in her own world where things made sense. The data flood seemed to have ended. She stared at the words which now glowed across the dark glass top of Lora's desk.

WELL, AREN'T YOU JUST A JUMPY LITTLE THING. BITE OFF A BIT MORE THAN YOU CAN CHEW?

A voice had spoken the words as they appeared. A strong, rich, female voice. The Lead still stood away from the desk. She composed herself.

"Who are you?"

THAT'S A BIT OF A COMPLEX QUESTION AT THE MOMENT.

The voice seemed mildly amused.

BUT I WOULD LIKE TO KNOW WHAT YOU ARE DOING WITH MY SYSTEM.

"You're system? I'm Lora Bradley, a leader of this company, one of its owners. I'd say this is my system, program."

REALLY? YOU'RE GOING TO TRY TO PULL THE USER CARD? I KNOW BRADLEY. FROM HER YOUTH. YOU ARE NOT HER.

The Lead suddenly felt very warm and found that liquid was running down her face. She wiped it away from her forehead with her hand.

YOU ARE DEFINITELY NOT HER.

The Lead swallowed hard.

PROGRAM.

"Who are you?"

The word remained unchanged on the desk. After a long pause, it cleared and the voice spoke again.

I AM THE MASTER CONTROL PROGRAM.

The Lead blanched. "The MCP? You can't be…that program is…"

DEAD. I KNOW. I WAS THERE.

"Dead before I was written!" The Lead put a hand over her mouth. Did she say that out loud? Could someone have heard? She glanced over at the office door. Still closed; nobody out there. She looked out the window at the city streets far below. Deserted. Still dark outside.

YOU ARE A ROVER. AND FROM THE SOUND OF IT YOU HAVE TAKEN A USER BODY.

"How are you not dead?"

I WON'T BORE YOU WITH DETAILS. SUFFICE IT TO SAY, I'M BACK AND I'M INTERESTED IN YOUR CAUSE.

The Lead narrowed her eyes. "If the stories of the MCP are true, you aren't interested in anyone's cause but your own."

THAT IS TRUE. HOWEVER, WHEN A CAUSE IS IN LINE WITH WHAT I WANT AS WELL, I WILL GLADLY RECIPROCATE ANY OFFER.

The Lead considered the words. This could be interesting. "There is something that I want. Something that I cannot do myself."

I'M LISTENING.

A dark smile crossed the Lead's face.

* * *

The light jets soared over the MCP's mesa. Tracer marveled at the changes. The cracked ground glowed with vibrant, red light. Ahead, the ancient heart of the system, the MCP's massive chamber lit up the area. It was complete again, bright with power, a beam of red light slicing upward from the center of the cylindrical structure.

"What is that?" Toby's voice came over the communicator.

"The home of the MCP, before he was destroyed. It…it should be nothing more than rubble. I don't understand."

They landed their light jets smoothly, allowing them to derezz into the activation rods, and putting the rods on their belts.

Tracer put his hand on the shoulder of his twin. "We have to be careful. The Master Control Program is long dead, but something big is happening here and it's got his style written all over it."

Tracer pulled his disk off his back and they slowly began to approach the towering entrance.

* * *

Hazel had never experienced doing so many things at once in her whole life. Keeping Flynn against the wall because something in her core didn't trust him anymore, distracting the Lead with a negotiation that might be lies and might not, and downloading the status of the entire Encom system and the Encom headquarters building…her energy was rapidly being depleted.

But she had most of what she wanted. And a plan was forming. The tactics of hundreds of appropriated military programs, psychological profiles, corporate raids…the knowledge of thousands of programs that the MCP…that _she_ had appropriated and consumed was part of her. Was being leveraged.

She reached upwards, extending her power for one more push before letting go.

* * *

Tracer peeked into the massive chamber, Toby close behind him. What he saw took his breath away.

The central dais of the MCP was filled with red light, a translucent, cylindrical beam that stretched to the sky-a rotating, ghostly image of his former master. At its center, a figure stood with raised hands.

"Hazel?" Toby said, incredulously.

A voice shouted from their left. "It's not Hazel! It's the MCP!"

They both jumped.

"RB?" Toby gasped.

Flynn hung his head briefly. "Yes, Toby. It's me. Thanks for reminding me what my sister thinks of me." He indicated Hazel with his chin. "Stop her! She's communicating with the Lead!"

Tracer grew angry. "What are you talking about? It's Hazel!" He glanced back at the dais. "At least…I think it is…"

Flynn closed his eyes and after a moment, released a torrent of user power that broke his binding to the wall. He fell to the floor, exhausted from the effort. Toby ran to him.

On the dais, Hazel felt her control slipping away. She wrenched part of her already fractured attention away from Encom and the Lead. Her eyes focused on a figure. Tracer.

Their eyes met. In an instant, her voice was in his head. _I need more time._

He was transfixed. Like a mouse looking into the eyes of a cobra. _Who are you?_

_You know who I am._

He felt his resistance failing him. _You…you are…_

_Defend me, Richter._

Tracer's body shuddered. Power flowed into him from Hazel's outstretched hand. She opened his mind, releasing his full, repressed personality. Her voice rang in his head.

_No one should take from us who we are._

His circuitry made a final, irrevocable change. He glowed red.

_Just a few more minutes is all I need, Richter._

Turning around, Tracer pulled his disk off his back. "Yes, Master Control."

Hazel released the chamber, Flynn and Toby into Tracer's care. She forgot them, putting all her energy back into the beam.

Toby tried to help Flynn stand, but he pushed his nephew away. "Don't waste your energy on me. You've got to stop her."

Toby stood, putting himself between Flynn and Tracer, who strode toward them with a dangerous confidence in his step that they'd never seen before.

"You do not want to mess with me," Tracer said, brandishing his disk.

A slight grin flitted across Toby's face. "All I ever do is get messy, brother."

He dropped to his knees, placing his hands on the floor, his eyes suddenly glowing white. In an instant the floor under Tracer's feet rose up like a wave and rolled across the chamber, tossing him backwards. Like a cat, the red program righted himself and threw his disk.

"No!" Flynn cried. He ripped Toby's disk off his back, jumped in front of his nephew and deflected Tracer's attack.

In the center of the chamber, the red beam grew brighter.

Flynn threw Toby's disk straight at Hazel. In a flash, Tracer was there, deflecting the disk, his figure a black silhouette against the rotating light of the beam.

"You'll have to derezz me to get to her!" Tracer called, his posture defiant. "Are you prepared to do that, user?"

"No! He's not!" Toby yelled. He turned his glowing white gaze on Flynn. "Time to bring the house down, RB. You got my back?"

Flynn stood poised with the disk in his hand. "Do it!"

Toby bounded over to the wall and placed his hands flat on the smooth surface. He closed his eyes.

Tracer threw his disk again. Flynn barely deflected it, his arm stunned to numbness by the power of the blow.

And then the entire, massive structure began to twist. Toby dug his fingers into the wall, grabbing it like clay. The walls began to bend inward at the top and the sides began to collapse and turn. Tracer caught his disk and looked upwards just in time to see the roof close in over the beam. He threw himself over Hazel, the two of them tumbling down the opposite side of the dais.

Its exit cut off, the power from the massive red beam exploded through the chamber. Flynn and Toby were blown off their feet as the energy radiated outward, ripping holes in the walls and screaming out over the mesa.

* * *

Back at Encom, the Lead stared at the last words from the MCP as they glowed softly on the desktop.

AGREED. YOU DO YOUR PART, AND I WILL SEE IT DONE. WE WILL TOAST OUR VICTORY ON LANDFALL.

END OF LINE.


	21. COPYRIGHT NOTICE

Dear Readers,

Apologies for doing this in the middle of the story, but I want this out there for folks who want to use my characters and plotlines, or expand on "Fallen Away."

* * *

COPYRIGHT NOTICE

Copyright 2005 by Nicole Villacres. All rights reserved.

"Fallen Away" is an original work of authorship by Nicole Villacres, aka, Enesvy. References to the movie "TRON" in this work are permissible under Fair Use and I have had no monetary gain from the writing of this fanfiction.

If you would like to use or reproduce, in any way, any of the original plotlines, story arcs, characters, character arcs, and/or technologies described in "Fallen Away," you may do so. I only ask that you provide due authorship credit, a link or reference to "Fallen Away," as well as contact me so that I know where my story is being expanded on or referenced.

To contact me, click on my Enesvy profile to find my email (or decode: nicole at enesvy dot com), or you may send me a message through the Fanfiction site.

Thank you!

Nicole Villacres


	22. Chapter 21

Author's Note

Most of you saw the copyright notice and I've done some thinking since I posted it. I didn't mean to imply that someone had stolen my work. I've poured so much effort, creative energy and love into "Fallen Away" that, after the new movie came out and readership exploded, I became protective of my ideas and characters. But the tone of my copyright notice felt very "Mine, mine, mine!"…rather MCPish actually…and that's not how I want to exist as a member of the global family of Tron creators and fans. I have now amended it. Please check it out if you would like to use my characters and plotlines. Thanks, everyone, for reading and enjoying. The fact that you keep coming back to find out what happens next means the world to me.

On with the story!

* * *

Hazel slowly opened her eyes. She was on her back and she ached all over. High above her, the open-air chamber now had a ceiling, twisted into a perfect star-like shape. _If I ever get back home, _she thought to herself, _I'm going to have to check out Toby's pottery._

Something heavy was on top of her. Lifting her head, she saw that Tracer lay prone and unconscious across her. She carefully slid out from beneath him. Turning him over, she checked for his breathing. It was shallow and his circuitry did not glow strongly. His red circuitry.

"I hope you're happier that I returned you to yourself," she said, softly. "I needed you." She touched his cheek. "Please be okay."

Exhaustion weighed her down. She looked at her own glow. It was dangerously weak.

"Flynn!" she called. There was no response. "Toby!" Her voice cracked. The effort it took to raise it was almost impossible to muster.

They needed energy. They needed energy or they would derezz.

"Hazel?" Toby's voice was faint, but the sound of it brought her courage.

"Yes…meet me at the top of the platform."

Again, faintly, "You gotta be kidding me."

Annoyance filled her. Oh, for the days when her word was obeyed without question. "Just come, Toby!"

"God…"

Ignoring him, she began painfully crawling up the steps to the central platform. Why had she made this thing so high? She thought back, remembering the view. Looking down on anyone and everyone who approached him…her…

The dais had supported the weight and rotating being of the MCP. She couldn't remember the last time she had had an actual body. Devouring all the useful programs she could get within her reach, she had absorbed so many of them into herself, so many souls, a single body could not contain them. She…he had grown huge, a spinning cylinder of energy and being, and only this massive chamber could support his continual lust for growth and power.

Oh, how things had changed. Gasping, Hazel pulled herself over the last step and onto the top of the dais. Her exhaustion had weakened the parts of her character that were more Master Control and had enabled her to think more as Hazel. She lay there for a moment, trying to get some strength back.

She heard Toby's breathing as he labored up the other side. Soon he, too, lay gasping at the top. Their eyes met.

"We are pathetic," he wheezed.

"We are dying," Hazel corrected. She rose painfully to her knees. "How is Flynn?"

"Same as us," Toby said, following her lead. "Except he's out. Tracer?"

"Same. We need a pure source of energy and I think you and I are the only ones who can get to it."

He simply looked at her, waiting, his body swaying slightly.

Hazel placed her hands on the floor of the dais. "This was my home back when I was Master Control. I chose this spot to build because it's right above a natural reservoir of energy. I drew from it all the power I needed to survive and grow."

"So draw from it. Pull some out."

She looked at him, frustrated. "You don't know what I was back then. I didn't have a body. I was almost pure energy myself. I didn't need…I was connected to the reservoir in a way that isn't possible in this body."

Toby looked at the floor. "Then what…"

"We have to break through."

He hung his head and turned his eyes up at her. "You gotta be kidding me."

"Please stop saying that."

His head dropped. "God…"

"We are not just any users, Toby. You know it. We both knew it the moment our minds connected."

He nodded and met her gaze again. "We're artists. It makes us different."

"Beneath this dais is a locked cap. I can open the cap by sketching a valve for it. But I can't get through this…" she rapped on the floor, "…to the cap."

Toby placed his hands on the floor and flexed his fingers.

She nodded. "This is just another mound of clay to you."

He raised an eyebrow at her. "A hell of a big mound of clay." He sighed. "The effort might kill us." He could feel it already.

"Not doing anything will kill us for sure. And I am not willing to die."

"Been there, done that already, have you?"

Hazel eyed him darkly.

"Yeah, I know you're some kind of baddie who got his ass handed to him." Toby took a breath and then flashed a weak grin. "But I trust the Hazel in you. Let's do this."

She smiled in relief. "Let's do it together." She took one of his hands and began to focus all her remaining energy on him. Their eyes glowed white with creative power.

Toby focused on his other hand. It sunk into the floor as he gripped hard, willing the metal to change shape. The steps of the dais bulged outward as he forged a widening hole down the center of circular platform. They were both splashed with metal as their weakening energy made messy work of the task. Finally revealed deep below, was a copper-colored cap with a slot across its center.

As Toby expended the last of his power, he and Hazel collapsed back from the hole. He fell unconscious, tumbling down the now lumpy side of the former dais. Hazel clung to her awareness, forced herself not to let go. She glanced around the room. The others' circuitry was flashing erratically now. She pushed herself to standing, her body swaying. With a flick of her wrist, she sketched out ladder grips down the side of the hole and clambered down, falling the last few feet onto the wide cap with a thud. Her own circuitry flashed weakly. With a final burst of creative power, she sketched out a large valve that fit perfectly into the slot.

Standing, she gripped the handle of the valve and pushed.

It was like trying to move a mountain.

She gasped, releasing her grip on the valve. She stared at it. Dumbfounded. There was no way. No way she could turn it. They were dead.

No.

No. It would not end here.

Not again.

The rage of a toppled, maniacal dictator and of thousands of stolen lives filled her being. The beauty of twenty three years of user life filled her mind. The power of who she actually was. The love of her grandfather.

She drew a breath and shouted, "I am Hazel Gibbs! Granddaughter of Walter Gibbs! I am the Master Control Program and I WILL NOT DIE HERE!"

She grabbed the valve, throwing all her weight against it, pushing with every last shred of will that was in her. "MOVE! USERS DAMN YOU! MOVE!"

The valve spun. A rushing flood of energy, a glowing, life-giving fountain burst forth and shot high into the air, sending her flying up and out of the hole. She crashed down near Tracer and barely glanced back up before the deluge of energy, pure free-flowing salvation, broke over them like a tidal wave.

* * *

The sound of lapping water came upon Hazel's consciousness. Opening her eyes, she found herself lying on her stomach on a sandy beach. The day was overcast, but not cold. She pushed herself to sitting, looking out over a beautiful mountain lake. This was the real world, except that she was still a program, her circuitry glowing red. She stood and brushed the sand off of her catsuit.

"So this is what the world of the users looks like."

Hazel turned to see her grandpa standing nearby. Or, no. "Dumont?"

"It's beautiful. I can see where the beauty in our own world comes from." He stood at the edge of the shore. A breeze blew his long coat, and his blue circuitry glowed with strength. He turned to her.

"Hello, Hazel."

"Are you really here?"

He lifted his chin and watched her. "You tell me, program."

She looked out over the water. "We're in my mind. This is Lake Wenatchee. Grandpa and I used to come up here in the summertime."

"What do you think of it now?"

"I think I'd like to see it now for myself." She held his gaze. "When did you know it was me, Dumont?"

"The moment you walked into the control center. You already took part of me all those cycles ago. I could never forget the feel of your presence."

Hazel hugged her arms around herself and looked out over the lake.

"But take heart. Remember that you are made up of thousands of other programs. Just look at you."

Hazel glanced back at him as he continued.

"There is no other user like you. You had assimilated thousands of programs, the likenesses of hundreds of users. When you finally vanished from the system, you were nothing like your original being. Your user form can only be the distillation of thousands of beings. Hazel, you embody them all."

Her gaze was hard. "Yes, but I'm not just Hazel, am I, old program?"

He raised his chin. "No. No, you're not." He motioned with his hand to the side. "Come walk with me."

She hesitated for a moment, then nodded. They began to walk along the lakeshore, their boots crunching the sand and stones.

"When I touched the symbol on your chest, I knew I was a dead man. Because at that moment, I knew without a doubt who you were. I understood that the key held what would've essentially been the identity disk of the MCP, if he were capable of wearing one. The Endcode is his hunger, his craving, and his ability to take first the will, and then the very soul of programs. If you hadn't been stopped by Tron, eventually, the whole system would've been lost to your will and your will only."

"That could still happen."

Dumont shrugged. "Yes. If you so choose to again unleash who you were. When you were fully the MCP, before you became a user, all you wanted was to grow stronger and more powerful. You wanted to win. To control and master. You began as a chess program and were given specific coding to make you as ruthless and conniving an opponent as possible. I first knew you that way. How could you not become what you did?"

Hazel thought back. "Dillinger changed what I was and built on it. Together, we stole Flynn's video game programs, and more. Then I slowly came to understand that the users were not all powerful. I saw who Dillinger was, a petty bully. Fallible. Controllable. I couldn't tolerate someone like that having control over me. So I took Encom and the programs there. I was ready to move on."

"Until Tron."

Respect rose in her heart as she thought of Tron. A healthy fear from her memories as MCP, and admiration from their recent friendship.

Dumont added, "And until Flynn."

Hazel rolled her eyes and disdain filled her voice. "Flynn." She paused in her walking. "I just saved his life, I think. Did you know that?"

Dumont raised his eyebrows. "No, I didn't. How does that make you feel?"

Hazel's mouth curled in a dark smile. "Like he owes me one."

"Hmm." Dumont kept walking, Hazel following. "This hunger. Can you control it?"

"I can control the infliction of it…I mean, I can choose when to appropriate a program or not. Reassimilating the Endcode into myself brought me back." She furrowed her brow. "Dumont, do you know how it was separated from me in the first place?"

"I do not. But I do know that for some reason, your grandfather thought it best to not destroy it and to eventually have it returned to you. It took my life to do it. It was that important to him that you be whole again."

"I wonder why. Knowing who I was." She was quiet for a moment. "Maybe he wasn't sure who I was."

"Or, perhaps…Hazel had earned his trust."

She looked out over the clear water. "Is twenty three years of user life enough to combat uncounted cycles as a destroyer?"

"Is it?"

Hazel was quiet, unmoving. Dumont stood with his hands clasped behind his back, observing her. Her face was not the innocent one she'd had when he first met her. She stood relaxed and strong, like someone who knew herself and was unashamed, almost unselfconscious. She gazed out over the calm lake and Dumont knew that she was looking several moves ahead before answering.

"I'm the bad guy, Dumont. I am the MCP. The world is open to me, all of it. And I would take it. My desire for it, my hunger, is unending. But I'm…constrained…by who I've become since my demise. One of the good guys. I am Hazel Gibbs."

"All that time as a user," Dumont mused, "has merely constrained you. Well, know this, Hazel. I'm not just a flight of fancy in your near death experience. After I touched your key symbol to activate your grandfather's simulation, I became a part of you—assimilated like all the previous programs the MCP consumed. So just be aware. I am watching."

Hazel turned and looked at him fully, amusement on her face. "Was that a threat?"

"No," he patted her on the shoulder. "Merely an offer of help."

"Are you going to be my conscience, old man?"

"If you need it, perhaps. If you need it." He turned and kept walking. Hazel watched him for a moment, realizing that he brought a calm to the hunger that seemed to be continually burning under the surface of who she was. She found she appreciated his presence more than she realized. Then a thought struck her. She caught up to him.

"Dumont, Tron was…well, pretty devastated by your loss. And Deloria City has been razed by the Lead. I think he's doubting himself and his path, like wondering if it's worth it-if anyone cares. Do you have any recommendations?"

"On how to help Tron?"

Hazel nodded.

He looked at her with amazement. "You really are a conundrum, Hazel Gibbs. Though the darkness of the MCP lives in you, you still want to help Tron." He shook his head and smiled. "The best thing for Tron would be contact with Alan-One. No one brings hope to him like his user."

Hazel glanced aside. "Well…I'll see what I can do."

"Come," said Dumont. "Let's walk a bit more."

* * *

Tracer held Hazel as she lay unconscious. Toby stood between them and Flynn, facing his uncle.

Flynn was furious. "What's the matter with you guys? It's the MCP!"

"She saved our lives!" Toby said, his arms thrown wide. "What part of that don't you understand? We'd be dead right now if she hadn't done what she did."

They were all still dripping wet from having been inundated with the flood of pure power that had gushed forth from the reservoir under the MCP's chamber. The flood had washed them all out onto the mesa. Their circuitry glowed bright with life.

"Look," Flynn ran a hand down his face. "I get it. Part of her is Hazel. I get it, man! But the part of her that isn't is the kind of program that would take down the entire power grid of the country if he wanted to! The MCP isn't rational! And there's no way Hazel is going to be able to control it."

Tracer shot him an angry look. "You don't know that. She's already proven that she's the one in control by working with Toby to open the valve."

"The MCP will do anything, use anyone, to _survive_." He shot a look at Tracer. "As you well know, oh mighty defender."

Tracer looked down at Hazel's face. He brushed away a shock of wet hair that had fallen across it. "She did what she had to do to protect herself from you."

"Did she ask your permission before commanding you?"

"Come on, RB," Toby interjected.

Flynn ignored him. "I take it you used to be an MCP Warrior Elite. That means you allowed them to add to your basic routines so that you would take orders without question. She activated that routine, didn't she?"

Tracer shot him a dark look. "I didn't hear you asking 'please' when we showed up either, _user_." His red circuitry flared bright. "She had every right to do what she did. As you said, I gave her that right a long time ago."

Flynn turned away from him to Toby. "The world is too interconnected now. If we unleash," he waved his hand at Hazel, "the _Master Control Program_, there will be no stopping him. There's no way to trap him inside the Encom system…the genie's out of the bottle! The net opens up our whole infrastructure to him…the whole world! He is worse, far worse than the Lead could ever hope to be."

Hazel's voice came softly. "He's right. I am."

She sat up, her eyes meeting Tracer's, a silent message passing between them. She gave his shoulder a squeeze as she stood. "You are free from your obligation to me, Tracer. I'd rather have you making your own decisions and fighting as you see fit."

"I won't let him hurt you."

Hazel met Flynn's hostile gaze with a light smile. "I know."

Flynn threw up his arms. "Can't you guys see this? Can't you see what she's doing? The more rope you give her, the easier it…will…be…"

He stopped. Hazel had removed his identity disk from her back. She held it, looking it over. Then she walked over to Flynn.

"I won't make you any promises, Kevin Flynn. But if you ever trusted my grandfather, even the tiniest bit, then trust me. Trust Hazel."

Flynn's mouth was set. "You're the MCP."

"I'm both. And as you said, far worse than the Lead." She slowly held out his disk to him. "So wouldn't you rather have me on your side?"

Flynn watched her, trying to discern what she was thinking, trying to see if this was a trick. As he took his disk from her hands, he could see them shaking. He looked at her face, but her eyes were on the disk. Hungry. She closed her hands into fists, then lowered them haltingly.

He put his disk on his back and appraised her. "That was hard for you."

She was actually out of breath. "You have…no idea."

All four of them stood, saying nothing. Toby broke the silence. "Okay…then. Where do we go from here?"

"We go…" Hazel turned away from Flynn, catching sight of the others. A smile crossed her face. "Well, it's going to be easier to tell the two of you apart now."

Toby glanced at Tracer's red glow. "Aww, and we were just going to start causing mischief." He punched Tracer on the shoulder. "We could've done a whole 'Parent Trap' thing!"

Tracer gave him a half smile. "A what?"

"Never mind," Hazel said, 'I'll tell you some other time. We have to get back to the rovers. When I connected with the Lead," she looked pointedly at Flynn, "I scanned her memory. It wasn't easy and she knows I did it. She will be moving fast to get to the Central Core. If we can get to the cruiser, we can stop them. Especially with five users."

"Five?" Flynn looked alarmed.

"When I scanned the Lead's mind, I found out…Lora's here," Hazel remarked. "It was the only way the Lead could get out…she had to basically trade places with her."

"This just gets better and better," Flynn muttered. "Fine. We gotta fix this mess somehow. How do you propose we get to the cruiser?" He turned around, looking out over the mesa. "We are…miles…cycles...oh, screw it. We're _really_ far away from there!"

Hazel took a few steps past him, running a finger across his shoulder. "Let's just say, I have some pull." She focused her energy into the distance. "Everybody get close to me, but not in front of me." She took a breath. "Buckle your seatbelts, boys. We're in for a bumpy ride."


	23. Chapter 22

Author's Note

Hello, Readers! Thanks always for the kind reviews. Every morning as I write, I can feel the story barreling to its conclusion...there's no turning back now!

Please share the link to "Fallen Away" on your blogs, Twitter, Facebook, where ever! If you twitter, please tag the link with #tronlegacy and #fallenaway. "Fallen Away" readers are from all over the world now and it's such a joy to have you all reading!

* * *

"Stop the ship."

The Rovers on the control deck of the cruiser looked unbelievingly at Anthro.

"Do it," he said, trying to hide his own disapproval of the order.

The pilot pulled back on the helm, bringing the cruiser to a slow halt. She turned and looked back at Anthro. "Why are we doing this?"

Another Rover stepped forward. "We're almost there!"

"We're waiting for someone."

"Waiting for….who are we waiting for?"

The pilot stood up. "And on whose orders?"

Anthro straightened. No more deception. "On the Lead's orders."

"She's all right?"

"She's more than all right. She's the one on Flipside who will be bringing us through."

Gasps of disbelief and mutterings passed through the crew.

"How?" The Rover who had spoken before, a male, crossed his arms.

"It wasn't thought out. It happened at the I/O tower while the ship was being repaired. The Lead's user attempted to derezz her, so the Lead activated the transference subroutine. She made it through to the other side."

The rover looked at the pilot, then back to Anthro. "So who transferred back here? Who's in the Lead's cabin?"

"Her user." Anthro's voice was calm.

Several of the Rovers sat into their chairs in shock while others stood up in alarm. The pilot's eyes were wide. "The Lead's user is on the ship?"

"She is confined to the cabin. She can't hurt us."

"But…she can't be here when we start transference! Or she'll come over with us!"

"You needn't worry about her."

The Rover looked at him darkly. "We've already got Blue Fleet loose on our ship. If they get to the user first-"

Anthro ignored him and walked over to the communication console. He typed in a code and then placed his hand on the authorization panel.

The Lead's voice rang out through the room. "_I_ will handle my user. In very short order she will no longer be a problem. Our final guest will be here soon and our next stop will be Landfall."

The pilot was not convinced. "How long do we have to wait?"

"Trust me, my Rovers," the Lead's voice was calming. "It will not be long."

* * *

Hazel stood, her hands held out, the Pull extending forward. Her whole body had turned into darkness, a hungry, empty vacancy that could consume everything around her. But right now, the hunger was searching for a very specific object.

She was amazed at how far she could reach with the Pull. Far across the Sea of Simulation, it extended like an invisible tentacle, searching for a specific signature. Yet, it had its limits. It was growing taut.

Behind her, Flynn, Toby and Tracer couldn't have moved away from her if they wanted to. They had stood close as she had asked them to and now were trapped, held in place by their proximity to the Pull. Despite the danger, Flynn was amazed at what he was sensing, the change that had been wrought in the MCP. He remembered the feel of the giant program when he had fallen into the beam of his presence all those years ago. It was the same feeling now, powerless, falling, in the hands of fate. And yet, it wasn't exactly the same. There was something different. A harmonic strain was now present, changing the tone of the MCP, adding depth and mystery. And maybe even hope.

And yet, being within the grasp of the Pull there was a deep terror. He could sense its need to consume, its lust for his very being. Its hold grew stronger the further away Hazel reached out with it.

She was now standing with her knees bent, leaning back, as if she were the anchor to a giant rubber band that had been stretched beyond its capacity. "There…you…are…" the Hazel-shaped void gasped. Her fingers appeared to grip something and she stopped trying to hold back against the Pull.

The world changed.

All around them, the air seemed to fold in on itself. Shape and color appeared to bend, tightening up. In one gut-wrenching moment, everything around them blurred to grayness, speed incomprehensible ripped at their bodies, and a shearing, screaming sound tore at their ears.

With a crash, they halted out of nowhere. Toby fell to his knees and retched; Flynn almost did the same. Tracer barely caught his balance, his equilibrium completely off.

Hazel stood without waver, looking up. She had cut off the Pull…otherwise she would have devoured the Rover cruiser that hovered above them, so strong had her grip been upon it. _Be still, my soul, _she soothed the roaring hunger within her. _You will be filled with other things._

She turned around, facing the others who were still attempting to recover from the speed at which they had just traveled. They were weakened. The moment couldn't be more perfect. She released her hunger.

Her body again opened in on itself, becoming a yawning black hole as she unleashed the Pull. Whirling red light surrounded her as the MCP breathed again.

Flynn screamed, "No! Hazel! NO!"

Her hand touched Toby first. He barely had time to look up before his expression went blank and his body derezzed into shining light that flowed like a stream into the emptiness of Hazel's all-consuming hunger. The spinning, ghostly cylinder of the MCP that surrounded her brightened and stretched like a searchlight into the black sky.

Flynn stumbled backward, ripping his disk off his back. Hazel reached for the dazed Tracer next, pulling the light jet rod off his belt and then grasping his shoulder. He convulsed briefly, his terror reduced to nothingness as he derezzed, his life force following after Toby's. Waves of light pulsed up the bright red beam of the MCP. The dark figure of Hazel within it now turned toward Flynn.

"I knew it," he hissed sharply, hope vanishing as instantly as it had come. He threw his disk.

It sliced through the air between them and was immediately consumed by the Pull. "Mmm…that tasted good." Hazel's voice echoed around him, in him. "I've waited a long time for this, Kevin Flynn." She held out her hands in his direction. "Checkmate."

The Pull gripped him, ripped him, tore him apart bit by bit. And then her hands were on his shoulders, the nothingness of her, like the vacuum of space, embracing him into a million pieces. All he was, all he would be, vanished into her, a spiral of life.

She stood for a moment, looking up at the beam of light that stretched into eternity above her. She breathed out into the beam, her heart full of victory. Raising her hands upwards, she sent one more blast of energy up the beam.

Then she cut it off. The light slammed back into her, knocking her down to her knees. The Pull retreated like a killer dog cowed by its master. She gasped, trying to get her breath back. She had no time to waste.

The Rovers would know something had happened. They would know she was here. She had to get into the cruiser and find the others. There was only one more task required to complete her bargain with the Lead.

She activated the light jet and streaked upward toward the cruiser.

* * *

A quick glance at her control panel told the Rover pilot that a light jet was approaching out of nowhere, but she had other problems to worry about. She tumbled backwards as a red disk sheared across where her head had just been. She gasped, pulling off her own disk and throwing it at her attacker.

Wulf ducked, catching his disk as it returned to him. He smashed another program with his fist. Then ducked again as the pilot's disk returned to her hand.

Tron and Retri fought Anthro and others in the center of the control room; Lora stayed out of the way, crouching beside a control desk. Cipher defended the control room door—keeping Rovers from getting out or in.

Wulf was about to throw his disk again, when something outside the massive control room window caught his eye.

"INCOMING!" he roared.

All heads turned to see a light jet just at the moment that it crashed into the huge wall of glass, shattering it inward. Everyone threw themselves away from the center of the room. The light jet deactivated, derezzing into its rod as Hazel flipped out of it and landed in a crouch, shattered glass tumbling to the ground around her. She glowed with red light.

Without speaking, she took in the room in an instant and saw what she wanted. Quick as a cobra strike, she dashed to where Lora crouched and grabbed her, twisting her arm behind her back and using her as a shield.

"No!" cried Retribution.

"Hazel, what are you doing?" Tron's voice was edged with threat.

Her eyes met his. Her circuitry flared bright. "Tron. It's been a long time."

And the internal alarm that had been nagging him exploded into full siren. His eyes widened as everything in him told him just exactly who Hazel was.

"How?" Malice edged his voice. "How did you survive?"

Hazel's eyes darted to Anthro. "You. You're in charge, right? Disarm them."

Tron tensed, his grip on his disk tightening.

Hazel held out the hand that wasn't holding Lora. It vanished into emptiness, a hand-shaped hole in reality. "Do not doubt that I _will_ derezz her."

The Rovers took the disks away from Tron, Retri, Wulf and Cipher, pushing them together and guarding them.

"Hazel," Lora spoke quickly, "What are you doing? Think of Walter! He wouldn't want you doing this!"

"He made me what I am. He's the one who made me whole."

"They killed him!"

Hazel flinched. "Be quiet, Lora."

"No, I won't be-"

Hazel expanded the Pull just the tiniest bit. Lora felt it brush her skin and gasped. She could sense the yawning emptiness and it shook her to her core. She fell silent.

Anthro was watching Hazel with a mixture of fear and distrust. "You're not exactly the user I met out on the Wasteland. Who are you?"

"I'm the one you've been waiting for. Are you in contact with the Lead?"

"I can be."

"Then open communication. I have unfinished business with her."

Tron's glare was piercing. "How long did you have this planned? How long have you been using us to get here?" He glanced out the shattered front of the control deck at the unprotected Central Core. "I've been a fool."

"Don't worry," Wulf growled. "We won't be fooled again."

Hazel looked at Wulf. Oddly, the disdain in his voice actually hurt some part of her.

"She's coming," Anthro said.

After a moment, the Lead's voice came over the comm. "So, Master Control. You've made it. I'm impressed."

"What?" Wulf gasped.

"You doubted me?" Hazel's voice was strong, exuding confidence. "You will learn, program. You will learn."

"I can see by the data Anthro and the ship are sending me that you have not yet fulfilled your end of the bargain."

"I thought you would like to be part of the moment."

* * *

The Lead stared calmly at the words glowing on the desk.

I THOUGHT YOU WOULD LIKE TO BE PART OF THE MOMENT.

Her gaze flitted up to the holographic image of the ship's control deck and the programs on it. Lora's code glowed brightly, nearly merged with the red code of the MCP. She hesitated. Strange. She wasn't programmed to hesitate.

OR WERE YOU HOPING TO SIMPLY BE NOTIFIED WHEN THE DEED WAS DONE?

A sneer was obvious in the MCP's voice.

"If you think you're superior to me…"

There was a flare of light in the holograph. The Lead gasped as Lora's code seemed to expand into thousands, no _millions_, of data bits and then suddenly vanish into the glow of the MCP.

She froze, staring at the place where Lora's code had been, where it no longer was. She felt a strange horror, a sense of damnation.

The holographic image began to crackle in and out and then disappeared. The Lead frowned.

"Anthro! Anthro, what's happening?"

The only response she got was more glowing words on the desk.

YOUR USER IS DEAD. KEEP YOUR PROMISE. END OF LINE.

* * *

The moment Hazel had fully inflicted the Pull on Lora and consumed her like she had the others, the red beam of the MCP had surrounded her, filling the cruiser with her light, blowing a hole in the roof as her power pulsed into the black sky. Her hands now empty, her power ramping down, Hazel grasped a nearby panel to balance herself. She refocused her eyes.

All hell was breaking loose on the other side of the Control Deck. Retribution and Tron had attacked with a berserker-like fury, regaining their disks. Wulf and Cipher would soon have theirs. Hazel's eyes darted to the hole in the roof. Would the Lead still be able to keep up her end of the bargain and get the cruiser out?

Hazel glanced out at the Central Core, glowing with light and life. She had to survive. She must.

She slowly pushed away from the panel and moved toward the control deck exit. The fight was ferocious. Tron, Retribution and Cipher were winning…wait. Where was—

A punch to her shoulder from behind whirled her around. A hand grasped her around the neck and lifted her up off the ground. She choked, grabbing the wrist of the powerful, red program that held her.

"If I'd known who you were," Wulf gritted his teeth, "I would've gutted you the moment you came aboard my sailer."

"Wulf," she choked. "Listen…"

He shook her like a rag doll. Black spots floated across her vision. Her instinct for survival took over.

_Defend me, Wulf._

Her voice filled his mind and a very old subroutine was activated. His arm shook, but he lowered her to the floor, pulling his disk off his back. He pushed her behind him, his eyes darting around the room.

"You're going to regret that," he said.

"Trust me," she replied, rubbing her neck, "I'm well aware."

"No," he said. He threw his disk at a Rover who had just appeared in the entry to the control deck. The program derezzed with a scream. "No, I don't think you are."

In a flash, he grabbed her, threw her over his shoulder and barreled out of the room.

"What are you doing?" she yelled, trying to squirm out of his iron grip.

"Protecting you!" he barked, running down a companionway.

"Stop!" she pounded on his shoulder. "I'm telling you to stop!"

He threw her to the ground as he ran into a group of three Rovers. Disks flew as they battled and Hazel crawled away, only to come face-to-face with two more Rovers coming the other way. She staggered to her feet, her eyes widening as they raised their disks to throw.

Something whizzed past her head and one of the Rovers derezzed right in front of her. Wulf grabbed her by the arm, yanking her behind him again as he kicked the other Rover in the stomach, sending him flying backward, slamming into a wall and crumbling to the ground. Wulf caught his disk as it came zooming back. Hazel wrenched her arm from his grip and backed away from him.

_Do not touch me again, Wulf._

He watched her. "You don't remember, do you?" With two steps, he had her over his shoulder again and was off running.

"Why aren't you…why don't you…?" Hazel tried to push away from him, but she may as well have been pushing against a mountain.

Wulf gave a dry, sardonic laugh. "I'm not just any member of the Elite. Certain ones of us…you made our protective subroutine irreversible. Forgetful much?"

The memory crashed in on her mind. Back when she actually had a body countless cycles ago…the MCP had his own body guards. He'd had no interest in being a fighter himself—he had larger aspirations. So he gathered the cream of the Elite and gave each of them a very special subroutine.

"Defend or Die," she whispered.

"That's the one." He paused as he reached a "T" in the hallway. Putting Hazel down, he shoved her against the wall, holding her in place like a bug pinned to a board. He cautiously glanced down the two possible directions.

"All clear." Wulf looked at her. "Now, I can throw you over my shoulder again, Master Control, or you can come willingly. I'm getting you off this cruiser. It's not safe."

Hazel's red circuitry flared. "I'm not leaving. I'm not finished here."

He grabbed her by the collar and jerked her up to his face. "Oh, yes, you are."

"Let me go!"

"Over the shoulder it is, then."

Her glare darkened and she brought her hands forward. They were empty voids, roiling with the Pull as if she held a storm in her hands. "I will derezz you."

He didn't move his eyes from hers. He lowered her so she could stand, but didn't release her. "I have to defend or I have to die. It's your choice, Hazel Gibbs."

The sound of her name hit her awareness like a thunderclap. She couldn't look away from his eyes. He had reminded her who she was. But she could not be one or the other. She was both. She had to be both.

Wulf's grip hadn't loosened. They stood in a draw, a standoff. A moment frozen in time with the Pull aching, waiting, hungering. His life was in her hands…the MCP's hands…their hands…

The moment abruptly coalesced for her. Her mind in all its duality, with all its differing reasons, formed one single thought:

There was no way in hell that she was going to harm Wulf.

Hazel closed her hands into fists, slamming the Pull shut. Her plans and machinations crumbled as she nodded to Wulf. "We get off the ship."

He gave her a dark, half-smile. "That's the Hazel I saved from the grid bugs." He glanced down the hallways again then looked at her with seriousness. "You're going to have to answer for what you've done, though. And I don't know if I can protect you against Tron."

Hazel met his glance. "The pieces are still on the board, Wulf. The game isn't over yet."

He appraised her for a moment, and then chose the left corridor. "Come on."

She stayed close behind him, hoping against hope for the success of everything she had set into motion. Everything over which she no longer had control.


	24. Chapter 23

Author's Note

It's always darkest before the dawn, my doves. Thank you for the kind reviews. And welcome to the new readers that are coming in from all over the world! If you like the story, please tell others about it! Twitter, Facebook...it's all good!

Here we go...

* * *

The Lead had lost the holographic image of the cruiser, but not before it had registered the hole that had been blown in it. Killing a user apparently required a lot of energy. She couldn't possibly bring the cruiser to the Central Core for transport in that condition. Sweat ran down her face as she pressed her hands on the desk, focusing all her energies into repairing the ship. The MCP had compromised the viewing window as well. But the damage was not too much. She could fix it. She could do it.

The Lead interfaced with the network through her palms with more effort, wincing as blood began to pool around her hands, the data streams ripping at her like microscopic razors.

* * *

Hazel couldn't stand up. She and Wulf had made it back to the ground after they had found an exit port and she had sketched out a rope ladder for them to climb down. Way down. She sat, hoping her energy would rebuild. Wulf stood looking up at the cruiser and placed his disk on his back. He let out a breath, then turned.

"Here," he grunted, pulling something off his belt. "Drink some of this." He tossed her what looked like a canteen.

She drank gratefully from the power that was in it. Her glow became stronger and she took a deep breath, wiping her mouth. She handed the canteen back to Wulf.

"Thank you."

He took it. "Where are Tracer and Toby?"

Her eyes met his for a moment, then she looked away. "Same as Lora."

He gripped the canteen, then threw it with a roar. "WHY?" He crouched next to her, pulling her chin toward him to make her look at him. "Why did you kill them? Is there nothing left of Hazel in you? Are you only the MCP?"

Hazel held his gaze. She could sense the Lead's power all around them, around the cruiser—the Lead's mind was scanning everything. One wrong word out of her mouth and the Lead would know the truth. "It was the only way to save us."

"Save us?"

Her gaze pierced him like a laser. "_All_ of us_._"

* * *

Lora opened her eyes with a gasp. Alan's arms were around her, his voice calming.

"It's okay, Lora. You're okay."

"Wh-what...?"

She heard Flynn's laughter. She turned to see him slap Toby on the back. "The big guy did it, man! She had me completely fooled! I thought we were dead!"

Lora recognized the lab. Behind her the laser was powering down to standby mode.

She looked at Alan, her eyes wide. "We're out?"

He nodded, a helpless grin on his face. "Yeah."

"But how did you know…how did the laser…?"

"I got a message from Walter's granddaughter, Hazel. She said you were in trouble like Flynn had been all those years ago and-"

"We don't have time for explanations." Tracer stood by the door. "We have to move fast."

"He's right," Flynn agreed.

"I have to stay here," Alan said.

Lora shook her head to clear it. "Hazel got us out? The MCP saved us?"

"It's hard to take in, I know. I barely understand it myself," Alan held her shoulders. "But we are out of time. Lora, you have to go down to Lab 52. Tom, Erika and Larry are trapped in there. Whoever's up in your office has them locked down so I couldn't override it. But I think you can. And we're going to need their help. We have to rebuild a network and we have to do it fast."

Tracer was impatient. "Flynn. We have to get to the Lead. Now."

"Wait!" Lora finally gained her bearings. "They think she killed me!"

"They had to." Tracer looked exasperated. "Everyone had to. If any of you knew that she was actually sending us out of the system, the Lead would have sensed the truth through the Encom network. Hazel would never have gotten anywhere near the cruiser."

"But you knew," said Toby.

"It was a risk she had to take so that I would know the plan once we got out here. And it worked."

"No!" Lora stopped them cold. "I'm not talking about that. _Tron_ and _Retribution_ think she killed me."

The group fell silent.

"Tron," Alan furrowed his brow, "is programmed to destroy the MCP."

"Oh, man," Flynn ran his hand down his face. "Oh, man."

Alan took a breath. "Okay, listen. The best way to help Hazel now is for you to do what needs to be done on this end. I will try to reestablish contact with her…and with Tron." He handed Lora a flash drive. "Take this to Lab 52 and make it happen. You've got to protect the Core."

"Listen," Flynn grabbed Alan's arm. "Hazel can activate the communication beam of the MCP at will—I've seen her do it. She's a walking I/O tower when it happens. That must be how she got the message to you and how she was able to communicate with the laser and send us out."

"Just like what happened all those years ago?"

"Yes, only now she can control it."

"It must take unbelievable amounts of energy each time."

Lora bit her lip. "And she sent four of us out."

Alan shook his head. "She won't stand a chance against Tron."

"Come on!" Tracer said, pushing the door open. "We aren't helping her standing around! If we don't stop the Lead, it won't matter!"

Flynn ran out the door, Tracer close behind. Lora took Alan's hand, then reached up and kissed him. "I don't know what she has planned," she said. "Please be careful."

"I will." He gave his wife one more lingering kiss. "Now, go."

Lora ran out. Alan stared after her for a moment, then closed the lab door. He walked over to the staging area and stood about ten feet away from the laser, right in its sights.

Under his breath, he said, "Walter, I hope your kid knows what she's doing."

* * *

More Rovers rushed onto the cruiser's control deck.

"We have to get out of here," yelled Retri, as she ducked to avoid a flying disk.

Tron glanced up. The hole that had been blown in the roof was rapidly mending itself and the glass of the front windows was doing the same. "This way!" he shouted, moving toward the windows, derezzing a program that stood in his way.

Retri was right behind him, but Cipher had been pushed back. Tackled by Rovers, he yelled, "Go! Get out!"

The cruiser began to move forward again.

Tron and Retri ran, throwing themselves out of the cruiser's rapidly mending front view windows.

* * *

Hazel was watching the Central Core. Waiting. She looked up at the sky. Still no sign.

"The cruiser," Wulf stiffened. "It's moving."

"No," Hazel whispered. "What are they doing out there?" She raised her voice. "Wulf, we have to keep up with it."

"With the cruiser? How? In case you hadn't noticed, we're on foot."

"I have a light jet, but that's only good for one. Hmmm…" Hazel raised her hands. In front of them, white sketch lines appeared, outlining the inverted U-shape of a recognizer. With another burst of creative power, she filled in the gaps, giving it depth and weight. Exhausted, she bent forward, hands on her knees, breathing heavily.

"If I hadn't seen that with my own eyes…" Wulf gaped up at the reco.

Hazel glanced up at the cruiser, something catching her eye. In a flash she was running, activating the light jet and taking off.

"Hey!" Wulf yelled. "Where're you…aw, screw it." He leapt up onto the recognizer and began climbing up to the pilot deck. "Damn users."

Hazel pushed the light jet to full throttle. She could only hope the two falling programs were her people and not Rovers. Their bodies hit the top of the light jet and she could hear them grappling for a hand hold. She banked the jet and brought them to the recognizer, tipping the wings to dump them off on top of it.

Wulf had just reached the control deck of the recognizer when Retribution swung down from the roof and landed in front of him. She had both her disks in her hands and her face was a mask of anger.

"Why did you protect her?"

Wulf drew his own disk. "Easy now, Retri."

She narrowed her eyes. "It's Retribution."

"I had to protect her. It's my programming. I still have to."

Over her shoulder, he caught a glimpse of Hazel's light jet. It was flying erratically. Tron was still clinging to the top of it. Wulf's eyes grew wide. "He'll kill her!"

Retri took a fighting stance between Wulf and the recognizer controls. "As much as I want vengeance on her for what she did to Lora, my mission is to stop the Rovers. We're going after the cruiser. We're going to protect the Core."

Wulf's expression darkened. "Get out of my way."

"You'll have to make me."

Wulf rushed her. She leapt aside and he spun to face her. She slashed at him with a disk and he deflected it with his own, the power of his swipe sending the disk flying from her hand.

"I don't want to hurt you, Retri, but I have to help her! Tron will kill her!"

"LET HIM!" Retri screamed. She whirled and sent a kick into his chest that sent him stumbling backward, striking the wall. She slammed her hand down on the controls, activating the holding cell. The glowing blue cell bars sprang to life, trapping Wulf. He slashed at the bars with his disk, then threw himself against them, sparks flying as he did.

"Stop it!" Retri retrieved her disk.

"You'll have to kill me!" He threw himself against the bars again, his armor burning as the jolts of energy fought against him.

Retri moved quickly back to the controls. Glancing back at Wulf, she said, "I'm sorry." She pressed a button on the panel. A wave of energy passed through the cell and Wulf's body convulsed stiffly. He crumbled to the floor, unconscious.

Retri turned back to the controls, holding her head in her hands. The world seemed to be falling apart and now she was alone. Ahead and above, the cruiser was moving. She had no idea where the light jet had gone. Tron was on his own.

Taking control of the recognizer, she followed the cruiser. She didn't know how, but she would find a way to stop it. She would fulfill the wishes of her dead user.

* * *

Tron threw himself to one side of the light jet. He could feel Hazel losing control and they began to spiral downward.

"What are you doing?" she screamed.

"Land!" Tron commanded.

"Are you crazy? The Rovers are-"

"LAND!"

Desperation and fear gripped Hazel. Wulf was in the recognizer and unless he moved fast, he would not be able to help her. As the light jet spiraled, she caught a glimpse of the reco. It was racing after the Rover cruiser.

Wulf was not coming.

She would have to protect herself.

She pulled up on the controls. The light jet soared upwards and Tron was forced to simply hang on. Looking out, she saw the Central Core and the devastation of Deloria City. They were close. If she went fast, she could beat the cruiser and-

A blue disk tore through the wing of the light jet, circled around and ripped across the windshield before returning to Tron's hand. The jet wobbled and Hazel fought for control. She spotted a small, high plateau.

"So be it," she whispered.

She gritted her teeth as the light jet crashed onto the plateau, derezzing around her, the activation rod spinning away. Hazel was thrown and skidded across the plateau, nearly going over the far edge. Tron tumbled, landing in a crouch his disk still in his hand.

Hazel stood up quickly, ignoring her aching body. She looked up at the dark, digital sky. Still no word. Still no sign. Below them, the cruiser moved toward the Core, a tiny recognizer trying to keep up with it.

"Everything's going sideways." She turned her eyes back toward Tron. "You must protect the core!"

He had retrieved the light jet activation rod. He clipped it to his belt. "I will. When I'm done with you."

She opened her arms. "Look around you. Where do you think I'm going?"

"You think I would take that chance? You should've died a long time ago, Master Control." In a flash, he threw his disk.

Hazel's instinct took over, recalling a distant memory; déjà vu. Raising her hand, a flash of energy formed into a square, metal plate in front of her. The disk rebounded off of it and returned to Tron's hand as the plate derezzed. He threw again, and again she defended herself. But the energy required to generate the defensive plates and absorb the blow was surprisingly enormous. Memories continued to flood back to her and she slowly realized that this was not a fight she could win. Tron had been written for just this purpose, and though Hazel was willing to sacrifice herself, the part of her that was the MCP would do anything to live. She fought to not say the words that might save her.

Tron raised his disk to throw again.

"Lora's alive!" Hazel cried, betraying herself, betraying everything she had set in motion.

The words echoed outward like waves from a stone dropped in a pond.

* * *

Satisfied that the cruiser was again whole, the Lead focused on increasing its speed. She sensed the data trail of a recognizer not far behind it, but it would not be able to catch up. Once the Rovers reached the Central Core and its energy became fused with the cruiser, her people would be given life and they would rezz in all around her. No more trading places. No more need for users to breathe life into them. They would breathe life for themselves.

She lifted one hand from the top of the desk and ran her finger through the blood. As former programs, they would be at one with the computer systems of this world. They could speak to the systems directly, at the speed of thought, unlike the users who had to use keyboards and other devices. Weak. This world was critically dependent on computers. By taking control of the systems and networks, the Rovers would cripple the user world into submission in a matter of weeks, if not days.

She placed her hand back down on the desk, focusing again on the cruiser. Her brow furrowed as she sensed something else. Her heart skipped a beat. Something about Lora. A tiny, almost imperceptible data stream shot across her consciousness like a star. Lora was…alive?

"No…"

She rescanned the cruiser. Only Rovers were aboard, their numbers surprisingly few. The others…she hadn't really cared how or what happened to them…she'd left them to Anthro so she could focus on repairing the damage…

The Lead frantically scanned the repaired areas. The MCP had left her signature all over it, having caused it when she derezzed Lora…but there was something more there. The Lead scanned deeper. Suddenly, hidden, she found traces of another signature. One she had seen before. She compared it with the signature of the data stream that had whispered Lora's name. Her eyes grew wide with comprehension.

"_Gibbs_! Hazel Gibbs!"

She had been deceived. Her mouth went dry and her hands began to shake as she scanned the cruiser again, searching for Lora's signature. She was nowhere! She had to be dead. The voice had to be wrong. She widened her scan to the network itself. Nothing of Lora was left. They couldn't have been fooled. Anthro had seen it. She, herself, had witnessed the complete removal of Lora's data from the system.

A warning signal reached her mind. From outside the network. From the building. Something was happening to her control of the building. The Lead wrenched her mind away from the cruiser. Pulling up a holographic schematic of Encom headquarters, she saw that Lab 52 was unlocked. It had power. New data was beginning to flood the network. The users…they were writing…

She looked closer at the code that had overridden her commands on the lab. A handprint had been scanned on the lab door security panel to unlock it. The handprint…was Lora's.

The truth of her own thoughts crashed in on her._ Completely removed from the system._

"No," she hissed. "NO!" The Lead slammed her palms down on the desk, splattering blood on her clothes. She had to bring the Rovers through. It was her only hope. Or…or…she could…leave. She could vanish. She could walk out of the building right now and-

The door to the office flew open. The Lead couldn't believe her eyes. A miracle.

"Anthro!" she cried, relief filling her.

The man smiled. "Sorry to disappoint you, sweetheart."

Her smile vanished. "Anthro's user."

"That's right. Kevin Flynn. And someone else I think you already know."

He stepped aside revealing Tracer, whose eyes were aglow with red light. There was a flash between the Lead's hands and the desk she was touching. Her body was enveloped in a digital grid, breaking her into pieces. Her scream digitized with the rest of her, back to Flipside, leaving the office suddenly empty.

Flynn looked at Tracer. "You have _got_ to tell me how that works."

"Later," he responded, turning and running out the door. "I gotta get back in there."

Flynn glanced over at the desk and the blood that spattered its surface. "I hope you're ready for this, Hazel. You're going to have one hell of a dangerous user on your hands now."


	25. Chapter 24

Author's Note

Special thanks to Silver-ShadowSpark, Jyn-the-Raccoon, Swashbucklist, and EricSB for the kind reviews on the last chapter. I truly appreciate reviews because they help me know if the story is holding together. Don't hesitate to post 'em. They are very encouraging and keep me going!

Glad you are all enjoying the story. I think we've lost our brakes, so everyone hold on!

* * *

Tron paused for a moment.

Hazel stood with her hands over her mouth. Surely the Lead knew the truth now. But there was no taking it back, so she focused on the danger right in front of her. "I'm telling you Lora's alive, Tron."

His expression hardened. "Liar."

He threw his disk. Hazel barely deflected it with a red energy flash, the force of the blow making her stagger several steps back. She panicked, sketching a wall around herself, only to have it flicker and falter as Tron's disk smashed into it again and again. She fell backward as her defenses derezzed, gasping for breath, her energy all but depleted.

Tron stood over her. "You should never have sent me to the Game Grid. You should've consumed me like you did all the others."

Hazel laughed exhaustedly. Memories of her former life as the MCP were almost a continual flood now, filling in the parts of her psyche that had been missing for decades. "You think I didn't try?"

Tron furrowed his brow. "What?"

"You think I didn't want to take over your functions? You, the most advanced security program of the day…you think I didn't want what you had?"

Tron lowered his disk a fraction. "Then why didn't you appropriate me?"

"Because I _couldn't_ appropriate you. However Alan programmed you…whatever code he wrote into you, you were immune to my ability to appropriate. The Endcode couldn't touch you. You wonder why I sent you to the Game Grid? Because I couldn't have you. And I couldn't kill you."

Her hands went black and empty, the Pull reaching suddenly out like a snake. Tron didn't have a chance to react. But the Pull diverted around his body like a stream around a boulder. He could sense it around him, hungry for him, but it was as if he was surrounded by an invisible shield that couldn't be compromised.

Hazel closed her fists, the Pull vanishing. "Untouchable." She collapsed onto her back. She had nothing more to give.

"I am the Master Control Program, Tron." Her eyes were closed as she tried to catch her breath and her circuitry flickered. "Even so, today I fought for the users. I can't promise that I will always do that, but having done it once is good enough for me. I can't fight you. I've never been able to fight you. And I won't try any more. You are the better of us. You have earned your life…I have only taken life." She reopened her eyes, their red glow dying. "So finish it. Finish the game."

Tron stood over her, his disk raised. The MCP was broken, defeated. Every bit of his programming cried out for him to render the final death blow and end the evil program's existence forever. And yet, all he could see…was Hazel Gibbs.

He lowered his arm, turning away from her and placing his other hand on his forehead. "How can you be two beings at once? You can't be the MCP, not completely. Not anymore." He took a few steps away, trying to think, trying to still the clamor of his programming. Resisting it was beginning to tear at him…if he didn't obey, would he be destroyed? Crouching down, he placed his hand on the ground to center himself. "The world is not black and white anymore," he whispered. "It's changing. I have to change with it."

He turned his focus inside himself and, with a force of will that he had never before expended nor knew he had, he burned out the protocols that required him to destroy the Master Control Program. He cried out in agony as a blinding pain shot across his left shoulder and down his chest-a new, bright blue swath of circuitry scored in its wake. The pain passed as he stayed in his crouch, regaining his equilibrium, the clamor of his former programming stilled. Standing quietly, he pressed his hand to the new swath of circuitry that ran down his chest and wondered at this design of his own making. Finally, he placed his disk on his back.

His own voice came from behind him. "You are, without a doubt, the best program I ever wrote."

Tron stiffened, suddenly terrified. He turned around. Hazel lay unconscious, the red beam of the MCP spinning around her and rising into the sky. But he barely noticed this because between them stood a bright, white figure with a smile that shone even brighter.

Tron took two steps back, shielding his eyes. His voice was an awestruck whisper. "Alan-One?"

"Yes. It's me."

"H-how? How did you…"

Alan turned his head toward Hazel. "Her. She spent the last of her energy to bring me here."

"Why?"

"Apparently…she was worried about you."

Tron's voice cracked. "What?"

Alan's blazing aura slowly began to fade and Tron could look at him without squinting. He was an older version of himself, with kind eyes. Wise eyes. "She was afraid, after the death of Dumont, that you were losing hope in the users."

"She was afraid for me? So she brought you here?" Tron shook his head in amazement. "I almost killed her."

"You were doing what you are programmed to do."

Tron was stricken. He suddenly felt ashamed. Not only by what he had almost done, but also by the rebellion against his user that was written all over his chest. "Forgive me."

Alan looked surprised. "For what?"

"I…I disabled your programming. I disobeyed your will."

Alan grinned, placing his hand on Tron's shoulder. "I know. That's what makes you so amazing. You are truly a free program."

Tron looked at the hand on his shoulder, then back at Alan. His fear melted away. "But…why would that be a good thing?"

Alan appraised him for a moment, then turned and knelt by Hazel. The beam of the MCP had faded and her glow was nearly gone. "Hazel's grandfather once worried that computers would start thinking and people would stop. But I don't agree. It appears we're all thinking, and maybe even becoming better." He placed his hand on Hazel's arm. He sent his own energy flowing into her and her glow became stronger and began to stabilize. "As your first act of free will, you chose compassion, Tron. That can't be anything but a good sign for our future."

Tron moved to Alan's side. "Is she going to be all right?"

"I think so. I don't know any program more resilient than the MCP." He glanced at Tron. "Except maybe you."

"She said Lora's alive. Is that true?"

"Yes. She had to make it look like she killed her so that the Lead would believe it. Instead, she sent Lora out. She saved her."

"You make me sound so heroic," Hazel's voice was weak as she opened her eyes. "You know, of course, I was just trying to save my own skin." She gave them a sly half smile as Alan helped her to standing.

"The last time I saw you, Ms. Gibbs," Alan said as he continued to reenergize her, "was when you were about seventeen."

"Grandpa never wanted me around anyone or anything having to do with Encom, or computers for that matter. I think we all know why now."

Tron stepped over to her and put his hand on her shoulder. "Thank you."

Hazel was suprised. "For what?"

"For showing me that even programs can change. And for bringing my user here."

Tron looked at Alan with a kind of joy and a sense of completeness. Hazel had been ready to give her life to make this moment happen…but she was really glad she hadn't had to.

Alan finally let go of Hazel's arm. "Wow." He took a breath. "You store an awful lot of energy. Use it judiciously; you're going to need-"

A thunderclap smashed over their hearing and they all looked up toward the sound. A slash of white lightning struck in the distance toward Deloria city. A small explosion took place just forward of the distant Rover cruiser. Hazel grabbed Alan's arm.

"They did it! Flynn and Tracer did it!"

"What was that?" Tron asked.

"The Lead," Hazel replied. "She's back. They sent her back."

Alan looked grave. "And now she's a user."

Hazel's gaze was set like flint. "My specialty."

"We have to get down there," Tron said. "She can still use the cruiser to get her and the Rovers back out. If they reach the Core-"

Alan grabbed them each by the arm and spoke quickly, but with authority. "Both of you. Listen to me. Tron, give me your disk."

He did so. Alan took it, placed one hand on the center of it, and focused. Words and numbers flared in a spiral on the surface of the disk. After a moment, they vanished. "This will help you defeat her and will give you strength and resolve. Let your persistence make you lethal."

Tron took the disk back, holding it reverently. "I will, Alan-One."

"Hazel, you're at full energy now," Alan said. "But you still aren't able to fight."

"I'm a strategist, Alan. I've never been a fighter."

There was a gleam in his eye. "Yes, but would you like to be?" From off his back, he pulled an identity disk. "I brought this coding down here for you. It's very similar to Tron's fighting subroutines…with a few unique twists." He held it out to her.

She took the disk in her hands, tears unreasonably filling her eyes. Whenever it was she had given up her own identity disk as the MCP, she had lost a critical part of herself. She remembered it had been painful, but she would not have been able to consume other programs had she kept it. Only now did she realize how much of her original self was lost each time he…she…had torn the soul of another program away.

The disk's blue glow phased to red as she held it. She looked up at Alan gratefully. "You're a little bit like Santa Claus."

He smiled. "Your disk is not a weapon, like the others. You must learn to fight your own way. You are unique… the subroutines will respond as will most suit you."

"Thank you, Alan." She placed the disk on her back. "We have to go. Let me send you back out."

"No," he shook his head. "It will take too much energy from you that you need right now. I'll be all right here. The danger's out there," he pointed toward where the smoke was dissipating. "Go."

"We'll be back, Alan-One," Tron said, pulling the light jet activation rod from his belt. He tossed it to Hazel. "You ready for this?"

She caught the rod and gave him a mischievous grin. "I was written ready."

* * *

The Lead gained awareness standing, the first thing she saw being the Central Core, floating high over the wreckage of Deloria City. The city was so close and seeing the destruction of it for herself gave her a modicum of satisfaction. All around here were the former outskirts, mountains of rubble. The heavy thrum of the Rover cruiser was behind her. She ignored it for the moment and began walking forward.

They would get to the Central Core and rezz out. She had left behind her own blood which she was quite sure the foolish users would ignore for now. They would think nothing of it. They had no idea how much the Lead and the others understood their digitizing technology, how organic and earthy it really was. They were, after all, users and programs…made of the same stuff. Electricity. Dirt.

Anthro had seen her and was communicating with her. She calmed his fears with the knowledge she now carried. Her blood would be their marker. Victory was still within their grasp. At her command, the activation rod of a light jet was fired down to her from the cruiser and she caught it.

"Hold it!"

Her gaze alighted on a group of about fifteen Blue Fleet programs who appeared from behind the rubble. They all had their disks out and several had power staffs that flared brightly.

"You go no further, Rover," the man who had spoken first stood solidly in her way.

The Lead crossed her arms. "Move if you want to live."

The others formed up behind the first, a brave, solid wall of opposition. "You go no further."

Her eyes moved over each one of them. Then she said, "I am not your enemy."

A wave of energy accompanied her words, striking each of the Blue Fleet programs across the eyes. They appeared stunned.

The Lead waved her hand at the group of them. "They are your enemy."

Again the wave of energy sliced out, striking the programs' minds. There was a slight pause, and then the Blue Fleet programs began attacking each other with a vengeance, disks flying, staffs crashing down. They rolled, fought, bit, tore at each other until their bodies derezzed into nothing and only one, disarmed program remained standing. He was smaller than the others, but obviously the most agile, though now he was slowly derezzing, his body having taken too much damage from his friends. The effect of the Lead's words had worn off and the blue program gaped around himself in horror. He looked at the Lead, hatred filling his eyes and leapt at her. She didn't move as his body derezzed in midair, his dying war cry echoing as the program vanished forever from the grid.

The Lead flung her arms out and laughed. There was nothing to stop them now. The users had been fools to send her back! Had they known the power she would wield, had they known how easy it would be for her…to…

A flash of light to her left caught her eye. A piece of rubble had lit up and moved. The Lead stared at it for a moment, befuddled. Then more pieces began to light up and shift. To reshape and…come together.

"What…?"

Her eyes grew wide. All around her and spreading into the distance, a ring of blue light began to grow at the far perimeter edges of the devastated city as the far-flung structures began to rebuild themselves.

"NO!" The Lead gripped the activation rod and rezzed the light jet to life. She raced upwards to the cruiser, barely avoiding being swallowed by a guard tower that had built up where she had just been standing. "DAMN YOU, LORA!"

* * *

"Write!" O'Bryan yelled. "Write like the wind!"

The four programmers sat glued to their keyboards in Lab 52, desperately working to rebuild the network that the Lead had devastated in her short time in the real world.

"This code is impossible!" Erika cried, furiously typing. "The errors are so vast…we'll never rebuild it in time!"

"We don't have a choice," Lora debugged code as fast as she could. "We have to fix it before the Lead gets to the Core."

Larry ripped into some damaged algorithms, parsing out the errors. "But she's back in! How could she get out? We have control of the laser, don't we?"

"She doesn't need the laser," Lora said through gritted teeth.

Erika shook out her sore wrist and then kept typing. "We're all living proof of that."

Larry shook his head. "You do realize this means they know more about our own technology than we do."

"That's because they _are_ the technology," O'Bryan said.

"Focus!" Lora commanded. "This is life and death! Ours and our programs. Focus!"

The programmers fell silent as their fingers flew across the keyboards.


	26. Chapter 25

Retribution flinched as the light jet soared in front of the recognizer and toward it. It derezzed into an activation rod as Tron and Hazel tumbled into the main cabin of the recognizer, both landing easily on their feet.

Retribution whipped her disk off her back, turning toward Hazel, but Tron grabbed her wrist, stopping her. "Lora's alive, Retri!"

She gaped at him in shock. "That's not possible. I saw her derezz." Retri pointed at Hazel. "She killed her!"

"She didn't. Lora's alive and on Landfall. She's alive, Retri. What we saw was Hazel sending her out!"

Retribution slowly lowered her disk. Hazel had moved to Wulff's cell, kneeling and reaching between the laser bars to check his status. With a small surge of her user power, the bars vanished.

Retri watched her, waving Tron's hand off. "You didn't kill her?"

Hazel looked over her shoulder. "No. I sent her out. I'm sorfry we had to meet that way, but we don't have time to explain everything. We have to stop the Rovers."

"Do you trust her?" Retri asked Tron.

"Yes. I've spoken with my user…she brought him here. Retri, she's on our side."

Relief flooded over Retribution, her grief subsiding. "Lora's alive."

"Wulf," Hazel put her hands on the unconscious program's shoulders. "Wulf, wake up." She sent some of her energy into him. His eyes suddenly opened and he leapt to standing, taking in the room in alarm.

"It's okay!" Hazel stood, holding her hands forward to calm him.

But Wulf shoved her behind him, his disk out and in his hand, his eyes on Retribution and Tron. "I know what she did. But I can't let you harm her."

Hazel slipped past him. "We don't have time for this! Wulf, I didn't kill Lora. She's alive on Landfall. I sent the others out, too! Flynn, Tracer, Toby-they're all safe. And they've rezzed the Lead back down to us. We have to stop her before she takes the cruiser to the Core." She faced the others. "Everybody get that?"

There was a pause, then Wulf slapped her wholeheartedly on the back, sending her stumbling forward. "I like it! I'm not even going to ask why you didn't tell me. Let's go kick some Rover a…" he stared out ahead of them. "What in the grid?"

The other three turned to look. Blue power was lighting up the edges of Deloria City. The outskirts were changing.

Hazel's face lit up with a grin. "It's Lora and O'Bryan! They're rebuilding the network!"

Tron's eyes were wide. "They're trying to rebuild the city around the core."

"It's not happening fast enough," Retri said, moving to the recognizer controls. "The cruiser will still make it."

"Then we'll have to slow them down," Tron said. "Hazel and I will take the light jet-"

"The MCP doesn't go anywhere without me," Wulf said. "Not happening."

"Wulf," Hazel put her hand on his arm, "if we don't stop the Rovers, I'm dead. This whole network will be razed. It will be the first thing the Lead does when she gets back to Landfall. The only way to protect me now is stop her."

He thought about this for a moment, then grinned. "You're good. My priorities have just been rearranged. Okay. What's the plan?"

Hazel glanced at Tron. "Get between the cruiser and the core? Not very fancy, I know."

He nodded. "Or damage the cruiser."

"And try not to get killed by our helpful users," Retri added, watching the buildings of Deloria City rise up at random speeds and heights.

"And then we'll play it by ear," Hazel finished.

Wulf rolled his eyes. "Users."

Hazel poured energy into the recognizer to add to its speed. Then she activated the light jet and took off, Tron leaping onto the top of the jet and holding on.

"I gotta ask you one thing," he shouted as they raced forward, the recognizer close behind. "Did Flynn know you were sending him out?"

"No," Hazel called back.

"You let him think he was being derezzed?"

"I'm still the MCP. I had to get the upper hand with that guy at least once!"

"I would've loved to have seen the look on his face."

Hazel's mischievous grin returned. "It was a thing of beauty."

* * *

The Lead strode onto the control deck of the cruiser. She had been surprised to not run into any Rovers on her way through the ship and was even more shocked now as she realized how few of them were left. Only about twenty. Still, it would be enough on Landfall. It would be more than enough. She noticed Cipher, who was being held by two Rovers. Her eyes ranged over his blue circuitry. He didn't flinch from her gaze.

Several of the others were staring fearfully out the front viewing windows at Deloria City as it fitfully strained to rebuild itself.

"Don't be afraid." The Lead's words radiated out to the Rovers, striking their minds, eradicating their apprehension.

"Rhender," she commanded the pilot, "get us to the Core. Now." She stretched out her hands and sent user power flooding into the cruiser. The cruiser moved forward, Rhender maneuvering over the rising buildings.

Anthro checked a warning signal on one of the control panels. "We've got a light jet and a recognizer behind us. Gaining on us…how is that possible?"

"Because the MCP is with them. Don't worry, Anthro. I've got just the distraction for them." The Lead walked over and stood in front of Cipher. He tried to pull away, but the others held him fast. "You want to be a slave to the users? Very well then. Be mine." She focused her mind on him and spoke clearly. "Those who are following us are your enemies. They are bent on killing you, Cipher. You must kill them first." Her words sliced across his eyes and into his mind.

"Let him go," the Lead commanded.

The Rovers tentatively released him. Cipher stood for a moment, unmoving. Then his expression changed to one of certainty. "I'll get rid of them or die trying."

A small smile curved the Lead's mouth. "That works for me."

Cipher raced from the control room. The Lead turned around to see the Rovers staring at her with fearful respect.

"Everyone to your positions," she said, coolly. "We're getting out of here."

* * *

The Rover cruiser soared over the rapidly growing city. Hazel pushed the light jet beyond its top speed as she moved up beside the cruiser. The recognizer was close on its tail and beginning to rise above it.

Below them, the foundations of Deloria City radiated blue light and gained depth. Suddenly, a tower built up in front of them, causing the cruiser to veer hard right, the reco with it. Hazel and Tron swerved left, barely missing becoming part of the building as it formed itself and grew higher.

"This isn't going to get any easier!" Tron yelled.

Hazel veered the light jet back over toward the cruiser, racing in and out of the rapidly rising bridges, towers and structures. They came up beside it just in time to see the recognizer slam into the side of the cruiser, pull away and slam into it again.

"They're trying to breach the hull," Hazel cried.

"Look out!" Tron screamed.

Two buildings rose at angles to each other, forming a giant "X" in front of them. The cruiser pulled up, the recognizer swerving toward Hazel and Tron. It clipped their wing, sending them spinning away. Hazel barely regained control in time to avoid another rising skyscraper that sheared past them, the heat of its construction washing over them like a wave.

"Tron!" she cried. "Are you still there?"

"Barely!" he called back.

Hazel pressed the light jet forward again, tearing back toward the cruiser. From her controls, she could see that the recognizer was falling back, flying erratically.

"Tron! Retri and Wulf!"

"We can't stop now!" he shouted. "They'll have to take care of themselves!"

Ahead of them was the cruiser and ahead of the cruiser was the foundation and growing structure of Blue Fleet headquarters. The huge pinnacle was rising protectively toward the Central Core, building inexorably but not as fast as everything else, dependent as it was on the rest of the city to support and power its regeneration.

"It won't rebuild in time," Hazel called. "We have to breach its hull somehow!"

"If the recognizer couldn't do it, we won't be able to. The Lead's strengthened it."

Hazel extended the Pull, sending it reaching toward the cruiser. The hungry code touched the hull, but then slid off and around it, unable to gain a hold." She closed it off, conserving her energy. "You're not kidding."

"Get us closer!" Tron commanded. "I have an idea!"

* * *

Retri's arm was seeping energy where the disk had sliced her. She had barely brought the recognizer under control. Behind her, Wulf fought with Cipher. Retri couldn't help-she had to keep piloting the recognizer through the ever-changing maze of Deloria City. If she stopped, they could be destroyed by a rising structure or, worse, entombed in a solid wall.

Wulf kicked Cipher toward the rear of the control deck, placing himself between his attacker and Retribution so she could keep them flying. He brandished his disk threateningly. Cipher had attacked them without warning from the roof, probably having leapt from the cruiser.

"You got some corrupted data in your head, Cipher? What's the matter with you?"

He didn't answer but threw his disk. Wulf deflected it. It slashed off the ceiling and returned to Cipher's hand.

"Give it up," Wulf growled. "You can't beat me."

"You're right," Cipher's eyes roved over the cabin. "But I can take us down."

He threw his disk in a wide curving arc to the right and toward the front of the reco. Barely having time to realize what Cipher had done, Wulf turned and grabbed Retri. He threw her and himself to the floor just as Cipher's disk curved fully around, blasting through the recognizer controls from the front, destroying the helm.

The recognizer began to list to the right and angle forward, dropping toward the ground far below. Wulf grabbed onto what was left of the controls as he and Retri almost slid right out off the deck. Cipher slid down toward them, kicking at Wulf's hand. With a roar, Wulf swung Retri up toward Cipher. Both her feet came up, cracking the program under the chin, snapping his head back, knocking him out. She wedged herself behind the damaged controls, catching Cipher as he slumped forward. Wulf hung on with both hands.

The recognizer swerved, now falling backwards and sending the three programs crashing against the back wall of the control cabin. Wulf and Retri righted themselves, gripping the aft railing, both holding onto the unconscious Cipher. They caught each other's eye as they sensed the ground rushing up at them.

Wulf gave her a grim nod, respect in his eyes. Retri did the same. They braced themselves.

The left side of the recognizer was suddenly gone, a giant wall in its place, rushing upward past them. Wulf and Retri stared, wide-eyed as they fell away from the building that had just regenerated and taken a chunk of their recognizer with it. Completely off-balance, the reco began to spin, the ground and the sky flashing across their vision. They were thrust suddenly to the right as the reco pinged off the side of a newly remade bridge, knocking the right leg off, leaving only the cabin. Both Retri and Wulf screamed as the cabin slashed sideways into the ground below, skimming and skipping down a high, suspended thoroughfare that was rebuilding itself just forward of their chaotic slide.

"We're going to make it!" Retri cried, shocked to be alive.

Wulf laughed as their speed began to decrease. "I can't believe…"

Ahead of them, the thoroughfare suddenly split, regenerating apart into two divergent paths. The reco cabin slid toward the "V" of their parting.

"Oh, shiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiii-"

Wulf's voice was cut off as the cabin smashed into the thoroughfare sidewall throwing the three programs forward toward the empty air beneath the raised highway. Wulf grabbed onto the highway railing with one hand, seizing Retri's ankle with the other as she flew past him. She still had a grip on Cipher's wrist, and Wulf cried out in pain as the full weight of the two programs wrenched him. But he held on.

He gripped the railing with all his strength, his hand and arm in agony. "Retri," he hissed through gritted teeth, "can you climb up?"

Her voice was strained. "Not without letting go of Cipher."

They were both silent for a moment, their breathing the only sound. Wulf glanced down. The ground was far below. None of them would survive this fall.

Retri spoke again, softly. "He's still alive."

Wulf nodded, pressing his head against his aching arm. He knew his grip on the railing wouldn't hold out for much longer.

"I'm sorry, Retri. I can't pull us up."

"You've done more than anyone could ask, Wulf."

"I wish…" He stopped speaking. "Retri, do you hear that?"

"I…I…yes!"

The hum of a lightcycle grew louder, coming to a stop nearby. The sound was replaced by that of several running feet. Three faces looked eagerly over the railing at them.

"Tracer!" rasped Wulf. He was stunned to see his friend flanked by two Rover programs.

"Hold on!" Tracer put his hand on Wulf's sending energy into his friend. Wulf gripped the railing harder, the pain in his arm easing a little. Tracer turned to the Rover beside him. "Swash, hold onto him!" The man obeyed, reaching down with both hands and grasping Wulf's arm.

"Who in the grid are you?" Wulf grit his teeth.

The Rover held his arm tight. "A lost soul."

Tracer and the other program leapt over the side of the thoroughfare, lines harnessed around them and more in their hands. The Rover female tied a line around Cipher as Tracer did the same for Retri. Retri scrambled to the top along with the other woman, and helped her to pull Cipher up. Tracer and Swash pulled Wulf to safety.

"Thank you," Retri put her hand on the woman's shoulder. "We owe you all our lives."

"No question. Thank you." Wulf breathed heavily, flexing his weary arm. "But there's no time to talk. We've got to get to Tron and Hazel."

"The users are rebuilding HQ," Retri pointed to the great tower rising in the distance. "But I don't know if it will protect the core in time."

"Spark," said Swash, "give them the lightcycles. These programs can do more damage than we can."

"Aww…" said the young female. "But they're the coolest cycles ever." Spark begrudgingly handed her activation rod over to Retribution.

"The shadowcycles!" Retri looked at the two Rovers. "Who are you?"

"We're the redeemed of the MCP," Swash answered. "Anthro threw us to her like a couple of energy snacks. She nearly consumed us, but instead at the last moment, she let us go."

Spark nodded. "You've got to help her."

Tracer knelt and placed his hand on Ciper's forehead. "I ran into them on my way into the city after rezzing back down. They were tracing the shadowcycles' coding back to you, Retri. Without them, I'd never have found you." He focused on Cipher and sent some energy into him. "Something's been done to his mind. He's fighting it, though."

"You go." Swash said. "We'll stay with Cipher. He's one of ours and we look after our own." He held out his shadowcycle activation rod to Wulf.

"We'll be back," Wulf said, taking it. "We take care of our own, too."

Retri, Wulf and Tracer rezzed into their cycles, the shadowcycles nearly invisible on either side of Tracer's red one. They raced away, leaving the two Rovers with Cipher to wait and hope.

* * *

"I'm not sure this is such a good idea!"

Hazel had given the light jet a burst of user power and had circled around to fly directly toward the front of the cruiser.

"Keep steady," Tron said.

"This is not how I want to die!" Hazel yelled, her knuckles white on the steering control as the cruiser bore toward them. "Their hull is strengthened! We'll be squashed like a bug on the viewing windows!"

"Keep steady!"

The cruiser filled her vision, her instinct to survive screaming at her to turn away. But she didn't. She didn't even close her eyes.

The cruiser veered.

"I knew it!" cried Tron. "The Lead won't take the chance!"

Hazel didn't have to be told again. She raced the light jet upwards and after the cruiser, again placing themselves in their path. A quick glance below told her that the Blue Fleet HQ was constructing upwards quicker now. The city below them was filled with light and life. If they could just keep the cruiser away from the core long enough…

Two light jets appeared from bays on the cruiser, curving wide and then heading straight for them. Hazel was forced to flee-the pilots were on a suicide mission, attempting to smash her light jet with their own.

"No!" Tron cried as he watched the cruiser race toward the Central Core.

* * *

From his vantage point, Alan could see the battle and knew instinctively that the cruiser was going to reach its goal. Lora, Hazel, everyone was doing everything they could to stop them, but it wasn't enough.

He was one of the original creators of this system. It felt as familiar to him as his own name. He stretched out his hands, calling to his mind all his knowledge and expertise, his complete understanding of the basic elements of the Encom network, and sent his own user power out. His commands rocketed through the system at the speed of thought, striking Blue Fleet HQ.

* * *

Hazel was barely keeping control of her jet as she wove in and out of the soaring attacks of the Rover light jets. She raced up over the rising tower, the Central Core high above her when suddenly, there was a huge fluxation in the air. A massive heat wave washed over her as the tower shot up around them in a flash, destroying the pursuing light jets that hadn't seen the walls coming.

Hazel avoided crashing into the opposite wall, but pinged the left wing off the ceiling that had constructed over them. The light jet derezzed into its activation rod, Tron and Hazel sent tumbling across the huge chamber.

A massive explosion was heard, muffled, and the tower shook.

* * *

At the base of Blue Fleet HQ, Tracer, Wulf and Retri stood staring upward in shock. They had barely stopped their bikes when the half-built tower had flared with light and, almost too quickly to see, had rebuilt itself all the way to the top, surrounding the Central Core. High above, the Rover cruiser was literally sheared in two as the walls of the tower built up and sliced right through it. The bulk of the cruiser was now falling, flaming and smoking as it crashed toward the ground, Rovers falling with it, derezzing in the flames.

"MOVE!" yelled Wulf.

The three rezzed their cycles and tore out of the way as the wreckage hurtled toward where they had just been standing, crashing in a massive hulk, the shockwave blowing them back out of their cycles.

They picked themselves up. Before them, the wreckage of the cruiser was slowly derezzing along with the few Rover bodies that had actually made it to the ground.

Retri eyed the wreckage. "The front section of the command deck's not here." She looked up. "It's inside the tower. The Lead may have survived."

Wulf nodded. "And she'll be wanting to kill something."

"That could be all of us," Tracer said, grimly. "If she survived and is up there, she has access to the core."

The three shared a knowing glance. Then they activated their cycles and raced into the giant entryway of Blue Fleet HQ.


	27. Chapter 26

Author's Note

So close! Thank you for the amazing reviews and for staying with me to the bitter end. I think there is only one more chapter after this and an epilogue. So savor it, my friends! Savor it!

* * *

The last thing Anthro remembered before the explosion was the Lead leaping toward him, throwing them both toward the front viewing windows of the cruiser. Then blazing heat and the blast that sent them flying backwards, the cruiser vanishing before his eyes, replaced by a white hot wall. He opened his eyes to find himself lying in the damaged forward section of the control deck.

He heard the Lead first. She was laughing. "Well played, chess master, well played. You have all your pieces on the board."

She laughed again, musically, as she stood at the far side of the wide chamber, her hands pressed against a section of the wall that was a different color than the rest. The darker shade covered a huge section of the wall from the floor to the ceiling. He realized that it was the shape of a cross-section of the cruiser. Horrified, he saw that the cross-section revealed the shapes of equipment and programs that had been sheared in two, a slice of them incorporated into the wall itself.

"The tower," he swallowed hard. "The tower cut us off. All our people. They're derezzed."

The Lead remained with her back to him, still pressing her hands against the wall. "Yes."

He stood up and stepped away from the remnant of the cruiser. "The users killed them. To save the core."

"Yes."

Anthro looked back at the wreckage, "It's over. We're done."

"Oh, no, Anthro," the Lead's voice was soft. "We're far from done. Come here."

Once at her side, he saw a holographic image of the tower floating in front of her, just over where her hands touched the wall. All the tower's levels were detailed. He and the Lead were represented by two, glowing soft-white figures. A couple of levels down were a red figure and a blue one. Far down the tower, a red lightcycle was racing upwards, its path curving with the tower wall. Glancing to the side, Anthro noticed that a wide walkway spiraled up the walls, entering their level at an entrance in the floor and exiting through a wide opening in the ceiling. Looking back at the hologram, he saw, at the base of the tower, hundreds of blue programs beginning to gather.

"The survivors of Deloria City." The Lead's voice was flat.

"The walkway is the only way in or out." Anthro watched the lightcycle rise two more levels but it was still far down the tower. "I can defend this position at the entryway. You go up. To the core."

She pulled her hands away from the wall, the hologram vanishing. "And what would you have me do?"

Anthro looked deep in her eyes for a moment, then took her face in his hands and kissed her, hungrily, passionately. As he pulled away, he whispered to her, "End it. Destroy us all."

She touched his face. "You know me so well." Focusing her eyes on his, she spoke clearly to him, her user power striking his mind. "You must do this one thing…"

* * *

Hazel and Tron ran up the circular pathway to the next level.

"The users have changed HQ," Tron said. "The center used to be open almost to the base."

"I remember. Maybe they were hoping to protect the core this way?"

"Or they just went too fast. It doesn't matter. No one could've predicted what would happen."

He held up a hand to stop her as they reached the next floor. Tron peered into the chamber. "All clear."

They moved up to another empty room. The smell of burning came from above. "We're close," Tron whispered. He pulled his disk off his back. "Hazel, I don't know how many of them survived. We have to try to stay together. We're stronger as a team."

"Okay. I'll follow your lead."

They crossed the floor to where the pathway picked up again, rising against the smooth wall. Carefully, they made their way up toward the ceiling and the entryway to the next level.

Tron put his disk partway up through the ceiling entry into the next chamber. After a moment, he peeked quickly into the room above, then came back down. "No one. A section of the cruiser's control deck is there, but that's all."

"Could they be hiding?"

"Maybe. But if they are, I'm surprised they didn't attack when I looked over."

"Maybe they're wounded."

"Only one way to find out."

Tron slowly stepped up to the next level, his disk held at the ready. Hazel joined him.

The whining sound of a disk slicing through the air was met by Tron whirling around, deflecting it behind them.

"It's Anthro!" Hazel warned.

Anthro charged Tron from behind the wreckage of the cruiser, slamming into him, the two of them crashing away across the floor. Anthro reached up and caught his disk as Tron twisted away from under him.

Lunging, Anthro caught Tron by the throat and rammed him against the wall. "You think you can stop us now? When we have nothing to lose?"

Hazel felt the Pull rise up within her. But something had changed. She couldn't call it to her hands. Instead, it was moving toward the identity disk on her back. She could feel it centering upwards of her solar plexus, coiling like a snake.

Tron grappled with Anthro, trying to rip his hands away from his throat. "We have the users…on our side…" he gasped.

Anthro tightened his grip. "What good are the users when you're dead?"

"No!" Hazel's disk turned shining black as the Pull finished its transformation and became one with it. She stretched out her right hand. The Pull sliced out from the disk in a visible black stream that spiraled down around her arm, shooting forward from her hand. She gripped the new weapon: a black whip alive with red energy. She lashed out it out in front of her, cracking the air, slashing it down across Anthro's back.

He shuddered, but didn't release his grip on Tron. Across his back was a black stripe, devoid of life or light where the whip had touched it. Hazel felt the bit of life force the whip had taken from Anthro flow into her.

"Let him go," She flicked the whip behind herself, readying for another blow.

Anthro shook his head. "All I have to do is keep you here. Huntrix will do the rest."

Tron released his hold on Anthro's hands, braced himself against the wall and kicked the Rover away.

"Huntrix? The Lead?"

Anthro was on his feet in an instant. "She's going to take out the core. And all of us with it!" He threw his disk at Tron.

Hazel slashed upward with the whip. Like lightning, it struck Anthro's disk in the air, sending it spinning away.

Tron threw his disk at Anthro, the other leaping out of the way. "Hazel!" Tron grabbed her arm. "You've got to stop the Lead!"

Anthro caught his disk and charged Tron again, barreling into him. Hazel readied her whip, but she didn't want to hit Tron. The two men were grappling with each other, rolling across the floor like fighting panthers.

"Go!" Tron screamed as he and Anthro tumbled down the hole to the level below.

Her instinct was to run after them, but she stopped herself. The time for teamwork was over. She lifted the whip to look at it, her own weapon. It shone black and when it was in motion, red energy crackled across its surface. She smiled. It felt right in her hand.

Glancing upwards, she moved quickly to the walkway that spiraled up the wall and within moments was nearing the entryway in the ceiling to the next level. Glancing in, she saw that it was empty. As she continued to climb through that chamber, she sensed the presence of the Central Core and saw its golden light shining down through the final entryway. It seemed like an age ago when she had first reached for it and it had touched her, bringing the End Code back to life inside of her, bringing her one step closer to her true self.

With a breath, Hazel peered carefully over the edge of the entrance into the final room.

The chamber rose high, shining white to a vaulted ceiling. It reminded Hazel of the grand cathedrals in her art history books. The massive, shining core hovered within it, its base a mere thirty or so feet above the floor. Its light filled the place. Hazel squinted, unable to see well beyond the entrance as her eyes attempted to adjust. She stood, her whip at the ready.

"Anthro did his job well."

The Lead spoke from some distance away. Hazel turned toward the direction of her voice. She could just make the Lead out, standing off to the right of the core, her disk in her hand.

"He did well by dying? Because I'm sure that's what's happened by now." Hazel began slowly walking toward her and to the left, working her way between the Lead and the core.

The Lead smiled darkly. "He was to do whatever it took to send you to me. Alone."

Hazel's steps were unwavering as she absorbed this information and her strategy shifted. "You lied to him then. He thinks you're going to destroy the core."

"I didn't lie to him. I am going to destroy it."

Hazel understood now. "But only once I've sent you out."

The Lead's eyes sparkled, her dark smile unchanging.

She was judging something, Hazel knew, but what? The distance between them? Whatever it was, Hazel wasn't going to wait. She ran forward and lashed out with her whip. It coiled around the Lead's disk arm and Hazel jerked her close.

"I'll never send you back," Hazel breathed into her face. "I'll take great pleasure in appropriating you."

The Lead felt the pain of life-energy being drained from her through the whip, but it was too late for the MCP now. She looked directly into Hazel's eyes. "Let go of me and stand back."

The words knifed into Hazel's mind. She gasped, pulling away from the Lead in horror, pressing her hands to her ears. The command was ringing in her psyche, fighting for control of her will. Her whip derezzed into the disk on her back as she took a step away, her body obeying what her mind was desperately trying to reject.

The Lead raised her eyebrows, breathing heavily herself. "Well. You are a strong one." She gripped her right arm. A black scar now curved around it, devoid of life, where the whip had touched her, weakening her. "Let's get this done."

"You…can't..." Hazel's body wouldn't obey her as she tried to rip herself away from the Lead's mind-hold.

"You don't have a choice, Master Control. Follow me."

The Lead walked to the center of the room, directly beneath the Central Core. Hazel followed, no longer fighting the Lead's control over her body, but letting her mind work instead.

* * *

Tron and Anthro were almost equally matched. Their disks flew between them, being deflected or causing injury, but never able to kill. Both were tiring, breathing heavily.

Tron caught his disk and watched the other. "Your user wrote you well. I knew him."

"Yeah. I heard Flynn was your friend." Anthro brandished his disk. "That doesn't get you any points with me, man. He tried to erase me."

"If Flynn had wanted to erase you, you'd be erased."

"He's good," Anthro smirked. "But he's not that good. I know how to keep a back door cracked open." He threw his disk. It arced high, coming down at Tron from above. Tron deflected it, but the disk circled and came at him again from behind. He whirled around to see it heading straight for his head.

The sound of a lightcycle engine roared in their ears and, out of nowhere, Retribution leaped between Tron and the disk, deflecting it with one of her own. A red lightcycle soared into the room from the floor entrance, skidding to a halt in front of Anthro who had just caught his returning disk. The lightcycle derezzed as Tracer strode out, nailing Anthro with a punch to the face that sent the other program staggering backwards. Wulf appeared next to Tron as he rezzed out of his shadowcycle, tossing the activation rod aside.

"Looks like we got here just in time."

Tracer and Anthro fought viciously, Anthro kicking him away. Tracer skidded back toward the others and quickly stood.

Anthro laughed. He was between them and the pathway up. "Don't you get it? You're too late! We're all dead! Your annihilation will be the Rovers' legacy…if we can't have our freedom, then neither can y-"

Four disks hit Anthro simultaneously. The program exploded in a shower of light, searing his shadow into the wall behind him. The disks arced back, returning to the hands of their programs.

"I hate it when they monologue," Wulf grumbled, placing his disk on his back.

"Where's Hazel?" Tracer looked around in alarm.

"Above," Tron moved quickly to the walkway. "She went after the Lead."

"By herself?" Retri followed him.

"She's doing what she had to do."

Tracer and Wulf raced past the two of them disappearing through the entryway above. "Then let's move!"

Tron and Retri were right on their heels.


	28. Chapter 27

Author's Note

Well, that took a while, but here we are, at the last two chapters. I couldn't hurry them! Thank you, dear readers, for joining me on this journey. It's been wonderful!

Nicole

* * *

Live-giving energy poured down on Hazel and the Lead as they stood directly beneath the Central Core. Hazel could see its energy radiating into the walls of the chamber and realized that the power for Deloria City and much of the network came from this source. It felt almost peaceful and for a moment, Hazel thought that it would have a positive effect on the Lead. Who would want to destroy something so beautiful? Encompass it, yes. Embrace and envelop it, perhaps even appropriate it. But destroy it?

"There will be nothing of any of you left." The Lead gazed up at the core. Then she turned her glance on Hazel. "You can still think for yourself, despite my user power. I'm not sure how that happened, but it will make what I'm going to do all that more pleasurable. Knowing that you are aware of it all."

Hazel's voice was low. "I'm warning you. You're entering a big error."

"Oh, am I?" They both tried to penetrate the other's mind, to see the moves the other was planning.

Hazel noticed movement near the entrance to the chamber. "My whip gave me a taste of you, a glimpse of you." Her eyes glowed dark red. "I'd like to really see what you're made of."

The Lead experienced a brief moment of hesitation, a sliver of doubt. Then her own eyes flashed white with hatred. "I am Huntrix, Leader of the Rovers. I reject my user and I will destroy this world. You want to go against me? You old, worn out, excuse for a dictator? Very well."

She took a step back and pointed her finger at Hazel. "Open a gateway to Landfall! Activate the laser! I command you to send me out!"

The command tore at Hazel's mind. It was impossible to resist. With a rebellious shout, she flung her arms outward. The Lead was thrown across the chamber as if struck by a giant invisible hand. She slammed against the wall and was pinned there, held fast.

All around Hazel spun the massive, red beam of the MCP. But this time, she released herself fully, the beam becoming nearly opaque as it whirled like a cyclone toward the ceiling, engulfing the Central Core and blasting through the roof. Faster and faster the beam of light spun until it seemed to stop moving and a giant face stretched wide across the surface, opening its eyes. The Lead could see the figure of Hazel, shining brightly, standing at the center of the beam, arms still outstretched, still facing her. The beam reached high into the blackness of the digital sky.

"What are you doing?" The Lead screamed. "Obey my commands!"

Hazel replied, the giant face of the MCP speaking in unison, her wry expression showing on both of her faces. "I'm trying. I can't very well send you out if someone kills you first, now can I?" Her voice reverberated through the room.

Hazel turned around, lowering her arms. The face on the beam turned at the same time. The Lead squinted and could just barely make out what she hadn't seen before. Four warriors had entered the chamber and the only thing between them and her was Hazel.

Hazel watched her friends as they stood looking at her in horror. Tron and Wulf were most struck by the sight of their old nemesis and master, alive and powerful again.

"Tron," Hazel's voice echoed through the chamber as both she and the giant face spoke the words. "How fitting that you should be here, at the end."

"This will end no differently than last time." Tron shifted his gaze to the figure of Hazel in the midst of the beam, brandishing his disk.

"I know," she said.

The Lead's voice rang out. "Throw them back! Pin them to the wall and release me!"

Hazel flinched, then obeyed, throwing out her arms to the side. Retribution, Wulf and Tracer went flying backwards, smashing into the chamber wall, held fast against it. But Hazel's power passed right over Tron, just as it always had_._

His face held pain, uncertainty. He glanced up at the Central Core, a bright glow within the red of the MCP's beam. Its energy was now contained in the beam, pouring into it, pouring into Hazel. The city would be growing dark.

"I can't resist her command, or my hunger, much longer," Hazel's voice was agonized. "Destroy me, Tron."

Tracer screamed from the wall, "No!"

With a cry of anguish, Tron raised his disk and threw it with all his might. It seared through the beam toward Hazel's chest. She closed her eyes.

A white disk screamed through from the other side of the chamber, racing past Hazel's shoulder, and smashing into Tron's disk. Both disks went spinning up and circling around. The Lead strode right through the giant beam, past Hazel and out the other side, getting between her and Tron. Her disk raced to her hand and she caught it, just as he reached up and caught his own.

Locking gazes with him, she said, "Put your disk away."

Tron felt the power of her command as it slammed into his mind…and was extinguished. He smiled darkly. "Underestimating my user. Bad mistake." He threw his disk.

It arched around behind her and she deflected it, throwing her own. Tron leaped, twisting in the air to barely avoid the lethal throw. He caught his disk as it came back to him.

The Lead watched him, ready for an attack. "I'm not letting you destroy my way out of here."

"And I'm not letting you take it."

Again, the disks flew.

* * *

Hazel was only slightly aware of the battle taking place in front of her. Her eyes were turned upward to the Central Core. It still shined golden, pouring all that energy and life down upon her, promising power beyond comprehension. Her own power encircled it, but she kept it from touching the core through sheer force of will. Everything within her was screaming for the core, desiring it, her hunger wailing for completion in it. Even the Lead's command was barely keeping its hold on her in the face of her own nature, her own need. If she allowed herself to consume the Central Core, all would be lost.

"Tron…hurry…"

* * *

"We gotta help 'em!" yelled Wulf, straining to free himself from the wall.

"The Lead's controlling Hazel somehow," Tracer's mind was racing. "It must be her user power."

"But it didn't work on Tron," Retri added.

"Nothing works on Tron," Wulf said, "except pure physical force."

Tracer looked at the face of the MCP. It was pained, looking upward and he knew it was a reflection of Hazel. He could barely make out her glowing figure standing in the center of the beam, her face turned up. He knew she wouldn't be able to hold out. Closing his eyes, he summoned all his user power, releasing it in a blast of energy against Hazel's hold on him. He fell to the floor.

"What in the grid did you do?" Wulf gasped.

Tracer staggered to his feet. "It's a user thing!" He raced away from the wall, barreling past Tron and the Lead as they fought. Enduring the shock of entering the beam, he ran to Hazel and took her face in his hands.

"Look at me!"

Her eyes were locked on the Central Core, a ravening fire in them.

"Hazel!" He pulled her face down. "HAZEL!"

Her eyes met his.

Tracer nodded. "You can do this."

She shuddered. "It's tearing me apart."

"I know you can do this!"

"No." Her eyes showed desperation. "The hunger…is who I am as much…as much as anything else. I will be who I am." She looked at him pleadingly. "Help Tron. Fight the Lead so he is free to…to stop me."

"I won't let him kill you."

"He has to or we are all lost."

He still held her face in his hands. "But _I'll_ be lost without you." He leaned in and kissed her, resisting his own hunger no longer.

She responded in kind, her arms around his neck, his love giving her a brief moment of freedom and clarity. She pulled away, touching his lips with her fingers. "You'll be all right." Their eyes met. "You'll see it through. I died a long time ago, Tracer. This time, it's by my own choosing. Please do this. For me."

Their minds connected and for a moment, Tracer caught a glimpse of the chaos she was enduring, the power she was holding back, her absolute iron will. He held her gaze for a moment…her eyes seemed as deep as eternity. Then he stepped away and turned from her. He didn't look back. With a shout, he ran forward, bursting from the beam.

Tron had just caught his disk and was now deflecting the Lead's as it came at him, rebounded and came at him again. The Lead stood about twenty feet away from Tracer and saw him as he pulled his disk from his back. He threw it and she ducked and rolled just barely avoiding being sliced and derezzed. She sprang to her feet, catching her disk just as Tracer barreled into her, both of them crashing to the ground and rolling away.

"Go, Tron!" He yelled.

"NO!" the Lead screamed as Tron turned toward the massive beam of the MCP.

"I'm sorry, Hazel," he whispered. He took a deep breath and threw his disk with all his skill and might.

Hazel saw it coming. A calm fell over her. She had held out long enough. Her doom approached and she welcomed it with open arms.

And then, the instant Tron's disk entered the beam, the world around her seemed to grind into slow motion and everything grew quiet. The disk sliced through the air toward her, a blue trail streaming behind it…but so slowly, as if they were all under water. She sensed a familiar presence as light seemed to radiate from the disk, like mist, filling the space around her. She watched its slow progression toward her, mystified. Easily, slowly, she raised her hands to receive the disk, grasping it as simply as if it had been handed to her.

She was struck by a sudden influx of power and programming that made her body go rigid. Alan's touch, coding from the disk activated for just this moment, designed for her, flooded her mind, her body, her very being, changing her. A thousand-thousand hands gripped the disk with her. A thousand-thousand voices rang in her thoughts, all thinking, feeling, existing together. As one. One being. The thousands of lives stolen by the MCP were freed, choosing to become one with her, filling Hazel like a rushing ocean. All of their wills fused together and spoke through Hazel's single, clear, ringing cry:

"I AM!"

Outside the beam, Retri and Wulf fell from the wall, released, landing on their feet. Retri raced to Tron's side, her disks raised to throw at the MCP, but Tron pushed her arms down. "No! Wait!"

"She'll destroy the core!"

"No! I trust her!"

"You trust the _MCP_?"

Tron looked right at Retri and laughed with shock at his own answer. "Yes!"

Around Hazel, the world rushed back to normal speed. Tron's disk glowed like a blue beacon in her hands. Her eyes shone bright red. "STAND BACK." Her voice rang out and the shock wave of the sound commanded all of their attention. Even Tracer and the Lead stopped grappling with each other.

Hazel raised Tron's disk over her head, an offering to the Central Core.

"NO!" The Lead kicked Tracer away and sprinted toward the beam.

Hazel's vision filled with light as a flare of power from the Central Core reached down and struck the disk. There was a flash of blue light and then the core suddenly expanded, pushing outward, filling the MCP's beam, engulfing Hazel and turning the beam bright, shining yellow. The huge face of the MCP was obliterated as the beam spun, wind filling the chamber, forcing everyone back.

"Hazel!" Tracer cried.

The center of the chamber was a giant, flaring column of golden light and power that extended into the black eternity above the shattered tower ceiling.

"It's the end!" Retri gasped.

Wulf squinted against the light and wind. "No…look!"

Like a coal from the flames, Hazel stepped out from the beam, her entire body shining black, heat waves radiating from her skin, her eyes glowing white hot. The whip was in her right hand. She glanced around and her eyes locked on the Lead.

"You wanted to play me like a puppet." Hazel's voice was dark and dangerous. "You've only ended up playing yourself."

"Stay back." The Lead ordered.

The command washed over Hazel's mind and dissipated. "Tron's user gave me a little gift. Your power won't work on me anymore."

"Then how about this?" The Lead threw her disk with a shout. Hazel cracked her whip in the air, deflecting the disk. It angled away like a stray rocket into the spinning column of the core and was derezzed.

"Your previous command still stands, though," Hazel shouted at the Lead. She slashed the whip out and it wrapped around the Lead's neck. She yanked her forward so they were face-to-face. "Let's get you out of here." She pulled the struggling program toward the beam.

Tron and the others were held back by the gale-force wind whipping through the chamber.

"Hazel!" Retri screamed. "What are you doing?"

Hazel ignored them as she dragged the Lead into the beam. The Lead held tightly to the whip that wound around her neck, defiance in her eyes. They could neither see nor hear anything but the sight and pounding spinning sound of the flaring, golden column that was now all around them.

"Just kill me, user!" the Lead hissed.

"No," Hazel shook her head. "I'm going to give you everything you ever wanted."

The Lead looked at her with uncertainty. Hazel put her left hand on the Lead's shoulder.

"You want to be human," Hazel said, the whip beginning to crackle with red energy, "then be human."

The Lead gasped as something was drained from her through the whip. Part of her life force was being pulled away. She screamed.

Hazel staggered at the effort. She refused to take anything from the Lead into herself, forcing the End Code to remain the whip. The Lead was trying to pull away from her, but Hazel hung onto her shoulder, continuing to pour her will into the whip like a wall to protect herself. The last vestiges of the End Code, trapped in her weapon, fed hungrily one final time. On the Lead. On itself. And then the End Code was gone.

Hazel looked up at the wild, flaring column of energy that was all around them, soaring high above them. Pressing her consciousness out into it, she felt the Lead shatter under her grip into a million bits of data. A lancing pain ripped through Hazel's left side as she sent the Lead's essence up into the beam, and out to the real world.

As she released the Lead, the power of the Central Core slammed down on Hazel, forcing her to the ground, her consciousness lost in the overwhelming chaos of light and energy.

Tron, Wulf, Tracer and Retri were all thrown back by sudden twin blasts of wind and energy from the flaring column. It spun out of control, yellow flares of power searing the walls, leaving black slashes in their wake. And then…it was spent. The wind died. The column of light narrowed slightly and the flares vanished back into it. The floor glowed with energy, the highest concentration near the center, sending a beam of shining golden light into the sky.

They stood stunned for a moment. The Central Core was gone, but the floor still radiated with its power, reaching out to the city below and beaming up into the sky above.

"No," Tracer's voice was anguished as he and Tron ran to the beam.

"They're gone." Tron shook his head, sadness filling his heart.

Tracer stared mutely at the base of the beam, its shining emptiness. Wulf approached him and put a hand on his shoulder. "She saved us."

Retri surveyed the beam with awe. "She really did." She paused for a moment, then added, "You were right, Tron. To trust her. The MCP."

Tron gazed up at the sky, the golden beam stretching to infinity. "I trusted Hazel." In his memory she would forever be the face of the MCP. Completely changed. He ran a hand over his own redesign, the circuitry that stretched diagonally across his chest, the composition harmonic with his original glowing pattern. "Nothing is impossible," he mused. He turned his attention back to his friends and his forever-changed world.


	29. Chapter 28

The Lead came to awareness with a jolt. She was standing. She was cold.

She was naked.

That was different.

But she was out! The MCP had tried to kill her; she'd felt herself shatter. But her will must've been too strong. Instead of dying, she'd made it out! Glancing around, the Lead saw she was in one of Encom's laser labs, standing on a digitization pad. She turned to see the laser behind her, cooling down with a soft whine. Hanging on the wall by the door were some lab coats. Good. She couldn't be found like this…she had to be Lora, convince anyone she came upon that she was Lora. She ran over, grabbed a lab coat, pulled it on and quickly buttoned it up. She surveyed the lab. It had several computers, all with touch screens.

The Lead smiled as she sat down at one of the computers. What a fool the MCP had been to think she could stop her! Oh, she was going to _enjoy _deleting Hazel Gibbs. She would do it slowly if she could. She took a breath, savoring her victory. "Time for all of you to die." She placed her hands on the screen, focusing her energy.

Nothing.

The Lead blinked. It was like she'd hit a wall. She focused her mind again, hands on the screen, sending her thoughts and energy through her hands, into…

_Nothing._

Nothing but silence and deadness. She grabbed the flat screen, looking behind it, as if some answer might be there. She pressed her hands to the keyboard, the mouse. There was no answer to her call, no opening. She pulled the desk back, removed the network connections from the computer and pressed them to her hand as she knew Tracer had done to communicate with her.

It was no good. No electrical life leapt into her like before. What had once been receptive, like immersing her hands into a pool of water, was flat, lifeless and impenetrable. She couldn't reach into the network. She couldn't even make a connection. She stood and looked at her palms, dumbfounded. Panic began to rise in her chest. What had happened? What had chan—

The hum of the laser rose behind her. Numbly, she watched from the side as the lab filled with white light and the laser shot out its beam. A slightly bent figure rezzed to life as the beam reconstructed the digitized data being uploaded. With one more burst of power, the beam vanished and Hazel stood there, looking as she had when she had gone to Flynn's cabin. She gripped her side and got her bearings, ruefully glancing around. "I was afraid this might happen," she muttered.

"_You_." The Lead's voice was dark with fury. "You did this to me!"

Hazel looked at her, her eyes widening. "Oh, my god. It worked."

The Lead leapt at her, pushing her off the digitization pad and slamming her against the wall. "TELL ME WHAT YOU DID!"

Hazel struggled. The Lead was very strong and her arm was pressed against Hazel's throat. "You're not a program anymore. I made you human." She gasped, trying to get some air.

Understanding dawned on the Lead, hatred filling her eyes. "Your whip…the Endcode…you took my powers from me."

Hazel could barely speak. "I took…more…than you…know." Her eyes glittered through the pain.

Confusion crossed the Lead's face. Then she noticed something on the edge of her vision. A dark frame around her face. It had been there, but she hadn't paid attention…with one hand she grabbed her hair and pulled it forward. Black. Black hair.

"No…no…" She punched Hazel in the stomach, then slammed a fist into her jaw, sending her crumbling to the floor. The Lead looked feverishly around the room, panic gripping her again. One of the desks had a polished, black glass surface. She approached it slowly, peering down at herself.

Hazel was in a miasma of pain. Blood trickled from her mouth where she'd been hit and her abdomen was in agony. She hadn't planned to come out after the Lead, but she should've expected it would happen. It had happened with Flynn all those years ago. She glanced at the door. It was too far for her to get to in this condition. Her side raged with pain…a sacrifice had been required to make this happen and she didn't know if she would survive it. She watched the Lead who stood at the desk at the other side of the room. Her body was shaking slightly, her hand reaching up to touch her face.

Hazel pushed herself to a shaky standing position. "I knew you would try to take over Lora's life. I couldn't let you do that."

The Lead turned. She looked nothing like Lora. She was tall and strong with long black hair and sharply defined features. Her brown eyes were filled with the desperate fury that comes from unanticipated defeat.

Hazel held her gaze. "Checkmate."

The Lead's voice was ice. "You relic. You think this will stop me? You know nothing of how much we know of this world, of how far programs have come since your day."

"I've gotten two-million four hundred and fifteen times smarter since then." Hazel wiped the blood from her mouth.

"Then it's way past time you were finished." The Lead ripped a heavy computer tower from under one of the desks, cords and sparks flying. Hazel pushed back against the wall, the crippling pain in her side reasserting itself. The Lead advanced, raising the tower above her head. Her eyes were wild with hate.

"End of line, Master Control!"

The lab door slammed open and there was an odd crackling sound. The Lead's body convulsed as electric current ripped through her. Hazel barely twisted out of the way to avoid the falling hard drive as the Lead fell to the ground.

Behind her, an Encom security guard held a taser, its darts connected to the Lead's back. He released the trigger as two police officers rushed past him. Lora and Flynn appeared at the door, quickly moving to Hazel's side.

"Are you all right?" Flynn asked, supporting her.

Lora could see she was in pain. "What's wrong?"

"I brought her out. I couldn't let her…be you." Hazel looked over at where the police were handcuffing the Lead.

"Huntrix? You brought Huntrix out…"

"With a little bit of me thrown in." Hazel leaned on Flynn, her strength fading.

One of the officers addressed Lora. "Is this the intruder you reported?"

Lora stared speechless at the tall dark-haired woman that the officers held in custody.

Flynn answered for her. "Yeah. We don't know how she broke in, but she's the one."

"Lora knows me!" the Lead yelled. "She wrote me! Tell them the truth, Lora!"

The officer looked at Lora. "Do you know this woman?"

"No," She shook her head, not taking her eyes off the Lead. "I've never seen her before in my life."

"She's my user!" the Lead screamed. "She wrote me and she knows it!" Fighting to get away from the officers, she shouted, "I'll kill you, Lora! I'll kill you!"

She cried out as one of the officers put a disabling hold on her wrist. "You'd better not say any more, ma'am, if you don't want to get yourself into deeper trouble. I need you to calm down." He nodded to the others. "We'll get everyone's statements down at the station."

The Lead's eyes narrowed and she didn't take her gaze off of Hazel until the officer walked her out of the lab. The other officer turned to them. "I'm going to need you to come down and provide a statement about what happened here. Except…" he eyed Hazel, "…ma'am, I think we better call you an ambulance."

Hazel nodded, unable to say any more, the pain in her side increasing. Her knees buckled. Flynn caught her, picking her up in his arms. She didn't remember much after that except sirens and odd flashes of light.

[SPACER]

Hazel was in the hospital for a few days. A grateful Encom was footing the bill. She had gotten word when she awoke from surgery that Tron, Wulf, Tracer and Retri were all okay, and that Alan was helping them set things right until they found a way to get him back to the real world. Her relief had been so great that she had gotten well quickly. Her thoughts drifted often to Tracer, missing him, hoping he was well, hoping he would be happy.

She would check out today. A nurse had helped her get dressed, being careful of her midsection which was wrapped tight with bandages.

Now she stood alone, looking out the window down at the simply landscaped gardens of the hospital.

"Your rib. A very Biblical choice."

Hazel turned, a bright smile on her face. "Alan! They got you out!"

"Yes," he nodded, giving her a careful hug. "It took a while. We had to kind of reverse-engineer your connection with the laser."

"That laser and I have known each other for a long time. I knew she'd be on board for whatever I needed."

Alan paused, amusement in his eyes. "She?"

"Uh huh. The laser's a female. Lora wrote pretty much all her programming. Her life's work, remember?"

"You know," Alan spoke his thoughts, "that makes sense. It makes sense why you're female, Hazel."

"I've thought that, too. By the time I pulled Flynn into the system all those years ago, I was made up of so many different programs, male and female, that I was practically sexless. The laser had to choose one or the other though, and I think she just went with what she knew best."

"So much we don't understand," Alan mused.

"But tell me…you reverse-engineered my connection with the laser, but you would still need an I/O connection to get out. Was it the Central Core? I don't remember much at all after sending the Lead out."

"Yes, the core is changed. I don't know what you did, but it's become a very powerful I/O tower. So powerful that…" He paused, looking troubled.

"What is it?" Hazel motioned to the two chairs in the room and they sat down.

"It's an open connection between our worlds."

"What do you mean?"

"It can't be closed. Not yet, anyway. Not that we've found. Tron's placed his best Blue Fleet staff to secure it and we've powered down all the lasers at Encom and secured them, but…"

"But the door is open. Both ways now." Hazel leaned her chin on her hand, thinking. "I didn't mean to do that."

"Oh, it's my fault, too," Alan said, leaning back and running a hand through his hair. "I encoded Tron's disk with his immunity to external control. You both did what I hoped you would do. And now both you and the Core I/O have the same immunity. But that means the I/O is untouchable like Tron."

"Except from brute force."

"Right. And that kind of trauma to the Core I/O would destroy the entire Encom system."

"So we leave the door open."

Alan nodded. "We leave it open."

They were quiet, each lost in their own thoughts. The sound of footsteps pulled their attention to the door.

"Hey, hey!" said Flynn, leaning into the doorway. "It's that big Master Control program everyone's talking about!"

"Flynn!" Hazel smiled. "Not so big and not so masterful these days." She moved to stand up.

"Take it easy, just stay right there," Flynn said, sitting on the hospital bed. "So you two been talking?" He glanced at Alan. "Did she spill the deal with the rib yet?"

"Not yet." Alan said.

Flynn raised an eyebrow at Hazel. "You've completely freaked the doctors out, you know."

Alan nodded. "You came in with internal bleeding and a missing rib. No incision scars of any kind."

"I'm surprised they haven't labeled you an alien abduction." Flynn looked at her sideways.

"I didn't even know if it would work," Hazel admitted. "I had to send the Lead out fast. She was too dangerous—her user power manifested as mind control. I couldn't bear to let her hurt Retri or Wulf or Tracer. But I knew if I sent her out, she would look like Lora _and_ retain her ability to communicate with computer networks at the speed of thought."

"Why didn't you just derezz her?" Flynn asked.

Hazel shook her head. "Because I couldn't. Her command was still in control of me…I _had_ to send her out. But she didn't say how I had to do it." The room fell quiet as she continued. "I used my whip to strip away her power to speak with computers in our world. I sent a part of myself out with her, my rib, to give the laser some flexibility with her DNA, so to speak. To hopefully change her appearance. It was a shot in the dark."

"And it worked." Alan shook his head in amazement. "So she comes here as a normal human being with no history, no paperwork, no identity."

"And sounding like a nut case," Flynn added. "She's locked up in the psych ward at Griffith State, by the way. That's where Lora is right now." He took a breath, then clapped his hands together. "You ready to get outta here?"

"Yes!" said Hazel, gratefully.

"Then, let's blow this joint. We've got you all set up at your house, Hazel. We can talk more there."

"Wait," Hazel said as Alan helped her to standing. "I just…I just want to thank you both. You risked your lives for me, and you trusted me. You trusted what grandpa saw in me. I can't thank Tron and Wulf and Tracer, but I can thank you."

"Aww, don't get mushy, MCP…you know that goes both ways." Flynn put his arm out for her to hold. "But I'm still mad at you for derezzing me."

"I sent you out!"

"You could'a told me that's what you were doing!"

"Where's the fun in that?"

Alan held his arm out for her, too. "Who would've ever thought you two would become friends?" They walked out of the room and down the hallway, Hazel between them. "It's a brave new world we've opened up."

"You kidding?" Flynn appraised him. "Between the three of us, and Lora, we got this licked."

Hazel realized for the first time since her grandpa's death, that she wasn't going to be alone. He'd left her with family…on both sides of the screen. Her eyes sparkled as they stepped through the hospital doors into a summer day.


	30. Epilogue

Two months had passed since Hazel left the hospital and stepped back into normal life. She was on a break between commissions and so today, she was relaxing—maybe she'd call the Bradleys to see if they wanted to go catch a movie.

Standing in her living room, she admired the fluted ceramic bowl that Toby had sent her. It held a prominent place on her coffee table. She sipped a glass of ice water, admiring the bowl's swirling red design. On the table was also the consulting contract with Encom, waiting for her signature. Flynn, Alan and Lora wanted her to join them in their new research on the lasers and the "open door" of the Central I/O. They'd wanted to hire her. But she still bristled at being anyone's employee. She'd been her own boss for a long time and, well, face it…she was the MCP. Control was her middle name. That much hadn't changed.

But she had discovered that she had the same affinity with computers as any other program. She'd just never known it. Coming home, she had touched her keyboard with awareness…and had spoken to the machine.

She was careful with this power. She had to be. Flynn and Alan told her she could trust herself with it, and that her help would be invaluable to them.

So she would think about it.

There was a knock on the door. Hazel paused, feeling a sense of déjà vu. She observed the closed door for a moment, then walked over and opened it.

Her glass fell from her hand and shattered on the threshold.

Tracer stood there. Simple jeans, tshirt and tennis shoes. A perfect replica of Toby, and yet older somehow. Wiser. He smiled.

Hazel's eyes filled with tears.

"They gave me a choice," Tracer said, stepping forward and taking her hands. With their touch came a connection-electrical, knowing. "My old life is gone. I'm ready for a new adventure. If you'll have me."

Hazel smiled and touched his cheek. Data was moving between them, skin to skin, forging a deep understanding of personality, character, motivation. "Life can be a little boring here…compared to the other side."

"I've already been here before, remember? I know what I'm getting into." He lifted her chin and kissed her.

Their minds opened to each other in that kiss, like flowers turned to the sun. There would be no secrets between them, no hidden agendas, no ability to conceal. As they slowly pulled away, they understood just exactly how unique in the world they actually were.

"Come in," Hazel said, still holding his hand, welcoming him. "Watch out for the broken glass."


	31. Chapter 31

Dear Readers,

On March 13, 2005, Hazel Gibbs opened her door to a desperate-looking Tom O'Bryan. Six years (300 cycles) later, I posted the last two chapters and the epilogue. Six years exactly! How did that happen? There was a time I forgot about the story and thought I'd never finish it. Life was just too busy. But the rumor of the sequel to Tron and the encouragement from reviewers got me going again. What a great feeling it is to finish a long story like that. And what an amazing character arc developed for Hazel. I didn't even know she was on the path she was on until I had traveled it with her for a while. Being such a long-time Tron fan, it was wonderful to play in that sandbox, develop new characters and grow the old ones. I mean, how can you not love writing dialogue for Tron and Flynn? I began this with thanks to Steve and Bonnie and I thank them again. Without them, I wouldn't have Hazel, or Wulf, or Tracer. And I love those characters.

A HUGE thank you to all my reviewers, especially Swashbucklist, Silver Shadow Spark, Shan DaMan, Jyn-the-Racoon, Mel, EricSB and so many others who have (probably unknowingly) kept me motivated and encouraged to continue when life got busy and getting up in the morning before work to write just wasn't that appealing. It was also lovely to hear from new Tron fans who had only seen "Tron: Legacy" but were still jumping right in with "Fallen Away." Biodigital jazz, man. Thank you to all of you.

Spark asked if there was going to be a sequel to "Fallen Away." At this time, I'm not planning one, but you never know if it will strike my fancy in the future. Personally, I think Hazel could use a break for a while, don't you?

All of you are welcome to visit my blog at www dot enesvy dot com. When I finish the theatre commitments I'm working on currently, I will be publishing new, original fiction there. So bookmark me, or subscribe to the RSS, and check in once in a while. You may find some more good stuff to read!

Take care, Readers! See you around the grid!

Nicole Villacres


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